Tainted Romance: Part I
by Petals Open to the Moon
Summary: "He was so deliciously evil. Passionate, yet darkly human at the same time..." Geneve never asked much of life; only what it gave her. She never forsaw the darkness on the horizon; the sweet manipulation that haunted her wherever she went...An Aro fanfic
1. Prologue

"_That I did always love _

_I bring thee proof..._

_Love is life _

_And life hath immortality." _

_~ Emily Dickinson_

_**Prologue **_

_Like anyone else, I have my own story to tell. And like any other story, it has its excitement, its passion, its villains, its sorrow, and its intrigues. But who would have thought it would lead me here—here to this beautiful city, where the rooftops kiss the blue heavens, and the people walk about in a daze, drunken on sunshine and "l'alimento di amore"? L'Italia. It is not the home of my birth, but I can never leave… _

_

* * *

__I turn my head in the drowsy sunlight, trailing my fingers across the skin of his shoulder. His hair spreads out in a dark wave, mingling with my lighter curls. He's pretending to ignore me, but I know any moment he'll surprise me with the unexpected. He is forever surprising me. A sigh breaks from my lips, and he turns his head, grinning wickedly. I am in his embrace before long, testing my self-control against his as we laugh softly under the covers. His hand tears the coverlet in a wild grasp for my body, and I sigh again. He is so deliciously evil. Passionate, yet darkly human at the same time. _

"_That's the third one this week. Heidi will not be happy—" I begin to say, but his lips are memorizing my throat, and I lose my train of thought. He eventually chases me off the bed, and I scream in anticipation as I run from the room. He wins, of course, pressing me against him before I have gone too far. Our breath subsides into a calmer rhythm, and I hear him tell me he loves me… _

_

* * *

_

_How do you begin a story? With words? No. It's more than that. I will give life to my story—spill life into it as I once was forced to spill my own blood. So here I sit, pen in hand, trying to find a way to start. Be patient with me, dear reader. There is time to spare. My thoughts are flowing freer now. Read as my hand moves against its own will, and we're drawn irresistibly into the past..._

_I remember the year it all started. It began the most terrifying-and the most beautiful-chapter of my life. _


	2. Chapter 1: Good News

**Chapter 1: Good News **

"_A good traveler has no fixed plans, _

_and is not intent on arriving." _

_~Lao Tzu_

"Italy?" I sat up on my bed.

"_Yes!_" Jordan screamed. I smiled, laying down my pencil. College algebra could wait. Jordan was breathing hard, as if she'd run halfway across campus. Her hair was wild, static. "Did you hear?" she shouted.

"Jordan, take it easy, ok?"

"Oh, sorry. I'll shut up." She pretended to zip her mouth closed, and stared at me blankly.

"Well, don't stop _there_! What were you saying about Italy?"

"We're going there! You, me, and Mel!"

"How do you know?"

"It's all in here." She waved a sheet of paper in my face. I grabbed it, finally, and she bounced about the room. "Isn't it marvelous?" she sang. I read the paper, excitement growing in my breast. It was from our art/design professor, Ms. Sanders. She congratulated us on our dedication and hard work this semester, "for which we are proud to reward you by an extended school trip to Italy. We will leave in two weeks with those students who have chosen to go. This three-week visit will cover the historical regions of Italy, along with-"

I stopped, too excited to read further. I was going to Italy.

"Jordan!" I shouted. "Sit still for two seconds and help me find Mel."

"Coming. I can't wait to see her face when she hears!" We ran from the room together, almost colliding with Mr. Fraley, the hall monitor. He grumbled at us, but let us pass by.

Melanie would be in the library, buried in English history. Not for long.

* * *

Looking back, I never considered myself as very beautiful. My pale hair was nothing in comparison to Jordan's sparkling eyes, or Melanie's gorgeous tan. I was skinny for nineteen years, and my breasts were sadly undeveloped. I was very pale, with a delicate sprinkling of freckles across my nose, and a faint flush now and then. I thought I looked like a little child. This belief was strengthened by the gentle, naïve look that shone from my face. I _was _naïve. Very much so.

But there were good traits as well. My hair, though pale, was a rare, golden-red shade. I cut it a little above shoulder-length, letting it curl naturally about my face. My clear blue eyes provided a startling, but pretty contrast with the red color. I remember I was very proud of my teeth, also, which were white and straight, and never needing braces. My face was much like my mother's: rounded cheeks, curved jaw line, pencil-thin eyebrows-a delicate, petite face. I loved my mother very much. Looking back eight years, it hurts just to remember her. The awful pain in which she died...

But, no. That can wait. Time pushes me back to the day I left for Italy. I stood at the airport with my two friends, and several other art classmates. Jordan's mountain of luggage gave some delay at customs, but we finally managed to get through. "Hurry up, guys. This trip's costing a fortune," grumbled one of the chaperons. (We didn't really need them -we were _college_ students, for heaven's sake-but there _were_ requirements to a school trip, after all.)

As I walked up the airplane ramp, a strange feeling of unease came over me. I looked back to the platform, where some of our families were waving to us. My mother stood alone, her frail shoulders braced against the pressing crowd. "Bye, Mom," I called, even though I knew she couldn't hear me. The strange feeling persisted; a mixture of indescribable fear and thrilling danger.

My mother waved.

How was I to know that upon my return, she would be a sick, shrunken woman-afraid of living? That my soul would be sicker than her body; torn to shreds by the very thing I would come to love and hate the most...? I didn't know. I merely followed my friends and boarded the plane.

It was my first step into darkness.


	3. Chapter 2: Italy

**Chapter 2: Italy **

"_What is the fatal charm of Italy? What do _

_we find there that can be found nowhere else? _

_I believe it is a certain permission to be human, _

_which other places, other countries, lost long ago…" _

_~ Erica Jong _

The first thing I noticed about Italy was the heat.

I stepped off the plane into a dazzling glare of sunlight and humidity. My clothes stuck to my skin before long, and I thanked God I'd remembered deodorant. Melanie and Jordan seemed perfectly at home; they were both from California. But for me, from Maine, it was an abrupt change.

The second thing that hit me was the smells. They weren't pleasant, at first. Most of it reminded me of the stench of a cow farm, but eventually I was able to pick out other smells. Smells like fresh pasta cooking in a villa nearby. The perfumed breezes from a scent shop. The nutty, sweet scent of a gelato stand. Italy was alive with scents, and we drank them in hungrily. Passers-by smiled at our gawking faces. _More student tourists, _they were thinking silently.

The chaperons, however, had been here before. "Come on, let's go," they said shortly. I was too bedazzled by the city-Venice was our first stop-to be irritated, and I followed them blindly, my neck craning to see all the buildings. My friends and I wandered a little apart from the group, soaking in the sights and sounds of Italy. Everywhere we went, hands were thrust out at us, selling wares, and little children reached mischievously into our pockets for goodies. Voices called to us in the beautiful Italian language. It sounded like a dance to me—lively and playful words that tumbled over each other in a rush. A woman beckoned to us, waving fresh carnations.

"_Voi gradiscono alcuni fiori? Fiori graziosi per le signore graziose?"_

"_Pane! Pane fresco!"_

American,_ eh? Venuto firmi in su per un giro libero. _Free tours, ladies."  
"I'm sorry," we said, using the only clumsy words we knew. _"Spiacente. Non parlo Italian." _Our chaperons eventually stopped quarreling among themselves, and pulled us from the clutches of an old lady with wild black hair who looked like a gypsy. She shook her fist behind us when we dropped the jewelry we'd been inspecting and walked away.

"Ah, man," moaned Jordan. "I really wanted one of those necklaces."

"You'll have plenty of time to get souvenirs," snapped Ms. Jenkins, an assistant professor from our art department back home. "Now the priority is to get some lodgings for all the students. You three girls will come with me, please."

We followed her, waving at the rest of the group. I walked slower than ever, drunken on the smells that assaulted my nostrils. I could literally taste the aroma of every bakery and traditional pasta in town, and my friends felt the same as I did from the looks on their faces. We finally stopped before a four-story, stucco building at the end of the street. It was a beautiful, creamy-white color, with red tile lining the roof. The sides of the building were worn, the paint had begun to peel off, and several tiles were cracked, but it only added to the charm and old-fashioned beauty of the place. We learned that it was_ una casa di imbarco_, or a boarding-house. Mel actually giggled with delight when we learned it was to be our place of residence while visiting Venice. When Ms. Jenkins knocked, the couple that came to the door charmed us even before they said a word. They were about forty-five years of age, with only a few gray strands in their thick, dark hair. The man was very large, towering over his wife, and had a thick mustache that at first hid his bright, enthusiastic smile. He grasped my hand in greeting, gushing profusely in Italian. His wife was quieter, and smiled at us shyly before showing us up to our rooms. Their name was Gonzagos. Luciana and Petrel Gonzagos. They would be our hosts during our stay in Venice. We eventually got settled upstairs, and I breathed deeply as fresh air came through the window. It was cooler, thank heavens, and didn't reek as much.

"Is this alright for you young ladies?" Luciana asked, coming in behind us.

We nodded smiling, and she asked us about our trip while Petrel spoke with Ms. Jenkins downstairs. Our next location was a place called _Volterra Pisa,_ which I'd never heard of before. Luciana's eyes brightened, and she spoke so rapidly that it was hard to understand her. We discovered that to get from Venice—or "Venizia," as the Italians called it—to Volterra Pisa, we would first have to go through Ferrara, and on to Bologna as a second stop before we were even halfway there. It was a distance of about nearly one hundred and fifty-seven miles, and I wondered at the chaperons for wanting to go that far.. "It's very beautiful there," Luciana told us, when we'd been living with our hosts for several days. We sat up in her room, poring over a map from Jordan's travel bag. "It is the perfect jewel of Etruscan and Renaissance-style art." We looked at the map, still sighing at the distance, but we were enthused by her description of the city. "You must go see the _Palazzo dei Priori,_" she said softly. "It is where my husband and I met. Years and years ago." We promised her, giggling at the romantic implications she gave us, until Petrel bawled up the stairs that he was starving, and _"affrenterrete prego in su?" _We all clambered downstairs, lured by the smells of fragrant cooking, and quickly immersed ourselves in some of the best cuisine we'd ever eaten: fried _polenta _with savory tomato sauce, _tiramisu_ that melted in your mouth like sugared snow, and of course, bowls of the most delicious, filling Italian pasta. We were allowed to taste some of Petrel's homemade wine, which was bitterer than I'd expected. We finally contented ourselves with plain water, trying not to stare as Petrel filled glass after glass of the heady, dark-red liquid.

"Ah, Luciana, you are the best cook we have in Venice!" Petrel sighed, leaning back in his chair. His cheeks were reddened by the wine, and his teeth flashed whiter than ever behind the mustache. "It's delicious," I agreed, smiling at his wife. She blushed, and quickly changed the subject. "You've heard where our guests are going, mia cara?" she asked him.

"Where?'

"We're going to Volterra," Mel said, wiping her hands on a napkin.

Petrel stared at her, and the room grew very quiet. "Volterra?" he repeated softly.


	4. Chapter 3: The Tria Sorcera

**Chapter 3: "The Tria Sorcera" **

"_History, it seemed, could be something _

_entirely different, a splash of blood _

_whose agony didn't fade _

_overnight, or over centuries..." _

_~ Elizabeth Kostova ("The Historian") _

We sat for a moment in silence, surprised by Petrel's tone. Looking over at Luciana, I was surprised to see a shadow pass over her face. It disappeared quickly, though, and she laughed. _"Mamma mia, _Petrel," she said, brushing back her thick hair. "Don't you remember? It is the city where we first met each other."

"Of course!" Petrel said, a little loudly, his face growing redder than ever. I glanced at Melanie, who subtly moved the wine to the far side of the table. Luciana winked at her. "I don't suppose you know the history of that city, do you?" he continued. We shook our heads, bewildered at his sudden change of mood. The candlelight in the room seemed to have darkened infinitesimally.

"Good! I love telling stories to you young people. Always so eager to listen." He wiped his moist face. "Well, according to ancient legend, the guardian of the city Volterra is the very thing it protects its inhabitants from."

"What do you mean?" Jordan asked.

Petrel leaned closer, his eyes enormous. "_Vampires_."

I laughed. "You're just teasing us, Petrel. There's no such thing as vampires."

He laughed, too. "Maybe not. But it _is_ an-how do you say?- intriguing story."

"Tell us," we urged.

"Well," he whispered. "The story goes that a priest of the church, Padre Marcus, entered Volterra over a thousand years ago. The city was rampant with plague. People were dying like flies."

"The black plague?" I guessed.

"No." Petrel's voice was very solemn. "The plague of the undead."

A cold chill ran up my spine.

"Families would come home to find their loved ones drained of blood, with a strange mark on their throats. Sometimes the slaughter was more gruesome: broken necks, slashed wrists, or piles of bare bones stacked up in the-"

"Petrel," Luciana interrupted gently. "This is hardly a story for our guests."

"But they wanted to hear it!" he protested. His wife sighed, and rose to gather up our plates. Mel and I tried to help her, but she insisted we sit back down. I was not sorry to do so. Petrel's story held a peculiar interest for me.

"Please go on," Jordan pleaded, helping herself to more mince cake.

He smiled. "Where was I? Ah, _si._ This plague had swept through the town, and the few survivors left had not yet found the true source. Some blamed the rats. Others blamed it on God, saying it was a punishment for their sins. And then one day, the _Tria Sorcera_ showed up."

"The _who_?"

"'The Three Sorcerers.' Or so they were called. Tall men with black cloaks and hoods. The townspeople who saw them said their faces were pale as death, and they had "eyes of fire." The leader of the group, who happened to be Padre Marcus, had come to save the town from the plague. The other two men were his brothers. Within two days, the symptoms of plague had disappeared. The bloodless corpses were gone. Night became day. It was a miracle."

Petrel looked around for the wine bottle, but Luciana had removed it. He shrugged his shoulders and continued. "Now, you may be wondering _how _this happened. There's a popular version of the story which says Padre Marcus himself wiped out the vampire scourge. What few know is that it _wasn't_ Padre Marcus, but one of his _brothers."_

"Why didn't they name the city after _him_, then?" I asked, too interested. It was only a _legend_, after all.

Petrel beamed at me. "A good question. It was _Padre_ Marcus who devised the plan and gave the orders, but this other brother carried them out. He infiltrated each area of the town, and brutally massacred any vampires. If you were a human, and infected by the undead, you were killed, too. He spared no one. The town was literally—how do you say?—washed clean."

_Except for the "Tria Sorcera," _I thought.

"After this was done, Padre Marcus spoke to the people from a high building, where they could not see his face. They worshipped him, asking if he would be their king. He declined, but said he would always be there to protect their city. He called it Volterra."

"And his brothers?"

"They stayed with him, and together they formed a trio called 'the Volturi.' Over time, the people of Volterra forgot these strange guardians, and the story became nothing but a scary story to tell their children at night." There was a brief pause, during which Petrel rocked back on his chair comfortably. My friends and I were silent.

"Well, _miei cari, _what do you think?" Petrel smiled, rocking forward. "You will have nightmares tonight, _non_?"

We smiled politely. I was relieved when Luciana came in again and announced our rooms were ready. We thanked Petrel for the story and his wife for the excellent dinner. Tired and full, we left the kitchen and walked upstairs.

"_Dormire bene_," the Gonzagos called after us.

"Holy crap!" Jordan whispered as soon as we were alone. "Are _all_ Italians this morbid?"

"It's just a story, Jordan," Mel yawned, rummaging through her suitcase.

"I know, but it gave me the creeps. I've always hated scary stories. Especially about werewolves or vampires. Weren't you scared at all, Jenny?"

I looked up from the bathroom sink. "Yeah, a little."

"The Gonzago's are nice people. I like them," Mel said.

Jordan laughed. "I think Luciana had better watch where she keeps the wine, though."

We chatted together for an hour or so, feeling right at home in the beautiful, little room, which was painted like the anterior of the house. Eventually, Mel and Jordan had fallen asleep, and the room was quiet but for their soft, even breathing. The moon had risen, casting shadows across my pillow.

I tried to sleep. I really did. But my mind was elsewhere. I must have dreamed at some point, because the shadows in the room got hazier, and I couldn't see clearly anymore...


	5. Chapter 4: The Other Vampire

**Chapter 4: The Other Vampire **

"_The guilty one is not he who _

_commits the sin, but the one who _

_causes the darkness." (Victor Hugo)_

_...I ran, my heart pounding madly. The pursuer was behind me. I could hear his breathing. Faster, harder, cold as ice in the dead of winter…._

_Turning down another street, I screamed. It was filled with bodies. White, sickening corpses with eyes sunken in their skulls and a frozen expression of fear on their faces. As I stared, another body was flung onto the heap by a man in a dark cloak. I walked towards him foolishly. As I drew near, he turned to me, and I saw his glorious, terrible face. His blood-red eyes flamed with life, and there was something like pleasure in them as he leaned down to kiss my throat..._

* * *

I jerked upright in bed, my forehead moist with sweat. The moon still shone on my pillow, quiet and relaxing. I held my head in my hands, trying to calm myself. But I knew as I lay back down that I wouldn't sleep anymore that night. I tossed and turned, sighing with relief when the first streak of dawn appeared in the sky. I dressed as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Mel and Jordan, and tiptoed downstairs. I was surprised to hear sounds coming from outside. It was barely six o'clock.

"_M'invade il cuore e l'anima, e mi salvera…_" sang a voice. I opened the door to see Petrel cutting the hedges, singing merrily to himself. He looked up as I came closer.

"Ah! _Mia bella!_ And how are you this morning?"

"Fine, thank you."

"Up a bit early, _non?_"

"I couldn't sleep."

He laughed, the sound ringing in the clear, morning air. "Thinking of the stories, perhaps. I am sorry for that. Luciana was right. It _was_ too scary for lovely ladies like you."

I smiled. Then, "Petrel?"

"Yes, _senora_?" He attacked a mangled branch with his shears.

"Remember when you were telling us about the legend of Padre Marcus?"

"Ah, _si._"

I hesitated. "What was the other one's name?"

Petrel looked confused. "Who? What 'other one?'"

"His brother. The one who-who killed all the vampires..."

"Ah, so you _were_ listening."

I blushed.

"I'm not certain, but I _think _it was 'Daro.' More commonly known to legend as 'Aro.'" Petrel shook his head. "A very simple name for one so deadly."

_Aro._ I thought of my dream briefly.

"One of the most nefarious vampires in Italian legend, if you ask me. Volterra wasn't the only village that saw his bloodthirstiness, either."

"No?" I said, rather faintly.

"Of course not. It's quite a-how do you say?-fascinating collection of stories. An extraordinary personality. It was rumored that during the slaughter of Volterra, the townspeople heard him laughing madly in the streets. He loved playing with Death."

An icy feeling crept through me. I felt cold, though the sun shone brightly overhead.

"Thank you," I said, walking away.


	6. Chapter 5: When Darkness Falls

**Chapter 5: When Darkness Falls **

"_I do not, even at this hour, realize the situation _

_in which I found myself. I cannot recall the _

_astounding incident thoroughly. Imagination _

_in vain tried to compass the awful paradox..." _

_~ Fitz-James O'Brien_

_Aro. _

The name echoed in my mind constantly. I had nightmares every night, always with the same red-eyed, handsome vampire. His features were ever-changing: sometimes his hair was black, sometimes a shade of white that matched his face. Once, it was a startling red that fell to his shoulders. I never could place an exact description. He floated in and out of my dreams, laughing as I tried to catch him with my mind. I would wake up, sweat pouring down my face, and grip my head in frustration.

Mel and Jordan knew something was bothering me. I could tell. One day, I overheard Luciana ask Jordan "if _Signora _Geneve always screamed at night." I never did, but that was before Petrel's horror stories drove me mad...

This made me think, though. I was on a once-in-a-lifetime trip with my best friends. There wasn't time to mope about, dreaming of imaginary creatures. And so I changed. I took sleeping pills to erase the dreams. I smiled. I laughed with my friends. I did everything but think of the vampire named Aro. It worked at first, but after a while I realized I was only avoiding what couldn't be avoided. It was as if some dark cloud was hanging over me, poisoning my thoughts. This terrified me, and the nightmares returned. I walked about with a hunted look on my face and deep circles under my eyes. My friends couldn't understand it. "What _is _your problem, anyway?" asked Jordan, more out of concern than frustration.

I shrugged.

Luciana, bless her heart, refused to be satisfied with my depressive state, and insisted I enjoy myself more. "Why don't you go with your friends to the _Bella Sogni _café?" she encouraged. "Delicious coffee. Many nice people there. It will cheer you up."

I thanked her for her kindness, and Mel, Jordan, and I went there that very night. It was a charming little place with lights strung out in front, and vines entwined around the lampposts. We ordered several _lattes_ in the warm, slightly crowded room. People chattered softly in Italian. Mel and Jordan argued about which tasted better: the caramel pistachio or the Italian crème. I sat quietly, barely listening. My happy mood had faded. I glanced at a bleeding-heart plant on the table. The flowers looked like blood. I pushed them away.

An Italian waiter hovered by our table. "Anything else for you?" he asked. We were fine, but he lingered to talk all the same.

"American students?" he guessed. We nodded.

"It's too bad you didn't come earlier. We had a festival a few weeks ago. Big festival. Lots of food, dancing, and celebration."

"What festival?" Mel asked. She seemed quite appreciative of the waiter's youth and dark, soft eyes.

He smiled back at her. "St. Marcus Day. A legend celebrating the removal of the undead from our city. I don't believe it, of course," he said, chuckling. "It's just an old tradition. But some folk around here are _very_ superstitious. You should visit again next year and see it."

"We've heard about the legend already, actually." Mel glanced at me. I could feel a dark sense clouding out my thoughts, and my face had turned pale. She turned back to the waiter. "Where does the festival take place?"

"In the large square a few blocks from here. There's a large clock tower in the center, and it's usually hung with red flags of celebration. Behind the tower, you'll find a commemoration of 'Padre Marcus,' as we call him, and his kinsmen."

"Brothers, you mean?" My voice was abrupt. The waiter stared at me. "_Si_." His puzzled expression turned to worry. "Are you feeling well, _signora_? Can I get you anything? Water, perhaps?"

I touched my moist forehead. "No, no, I'm fine."

The waiter was about to speak, but a customer called to him, and he excused himself. Jordan reached over to touch my cheek with her fingers. "Gosh, Jenny," she said. "You're burning up."

I rose suddenly. "I have to leave."

Mel and Jordan stared at me. "Why?" they asked. "What's wrong?"

"I just need some air."

"Do you want us to come with you?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. The warm air of the café was suffocating. I stumbled through the crowd, feeling my friends' worried stares behind me. The door opened, and I gulped in the fresh air. I sat down on the cool steps and closed my eyes.

A face floated in my head. Its red eyes were menacing and bright. Even when I opened mine, I could still see _him_ there. A tear rolled down my cheek. What in the name of heaven was wrong with me? I wiped my face angrily, as if defying anyone to answer.

"_In a large square...hung with red flags. Behind the tower, you'll find a commemoration..." _

I stood up and looked behind me. Mel and Jordan were chatting with the waiter again, and not paying any attention.

I would go find it, I decided. I would find the clock tower, and see if the ancient vampire's names were truly engraved there. See if _Aro_ was engraved there. I hardly understood what my drive to see it was. All I knew-as I walked down the shady alleyways and streets-was that I wanted to see it. Proof they'd really existed.

My eyes burned, trying to find their way in the darkness. I didn't have to speak Italian to ask directions. "St. Marcus?" was enough to give me a look of recognition. A woman directed me past a crowded square, and to continue straight to _La Piazza._ An older man helped me when I got lost, and pointed towards a high tower in the distance. As I came closer, I saw a single red flag hanging from beneath the huge clock. I ignored the people assembled beneath it-they seemed to be having a celebration of their own-and groped my way along the side. The hard stone felt cool beneath my fingers. I stumbled several times, scraping my knees on the ground.

The darkness seemed to get thicker and drearier as I followed the wall to the back of the tower. I could almost reach out and feel it. My heart beat rapidly. From fear? Excitement? I still hadn't answered this question when a woman rushed up to me and grabbed my shirt. Her hair was pitch black, but her face was carved with deep wrinkles.

"_Andare oltre! Andare oltre! __I non morti sono a piedi vicino da_!"

I couldn't keep up with her garbled Italian. Something clicked in her hands and I saw a beaded rosary clutched in her fingers. She held up another rosary, only smaller, to my face.

"_Prendere questo, povera ragazza_!" She thrust the trinket at me, and I took it. I tried to stop her; ask what was wrong in my broken Italian, but she wandered off, muttering gibberish. Rather than dismiss her actions as insanity, I felt the fear within me increase. I had no idea what she'd said, but something made me clasp the rosary about my neck, and look behind me every few seconds. The darkness was stifling. I suppressed an urge to run back to the warmth and safety of the café. I _had_ to see what I had come for. I turned the corner, and was at the back of the tower.

A single light shone down the alleyway, but it did little to brighten the blackness that surrounded me. I ran my fingers along the wall, trying to find an engraving or plaque of some sort. I did find it, eventually, but it was nothing but a few faded phrases on stone. I was almost afraid to touch it, it looked so old. Who had carved this, and how long ago? After a frustrating moment, I read the Italian words aloud: _Egli vive per difendere la nostra citta. __Lodare il suo Nome en eternita. Padre Marcus._

There was no mention of his brother _Aro_ or anyone else. _Strange,_ I thought.

I was searching for other clues when a scream shattered the silence. My heart leaped into my throat. I looked all around me, but could see no one. I heard the scream again. It was a woman.

The rosary felt heavy on my neck. I instinctively held it as I crept down the side of the wall. The darkness grew lighter as I neared the lamp post, but I couldn't see anybody...or anything. I had just decided to turn back before something terrible happened, when I spotted three figures down the alley to my right. Two of them wore long, gray cloaks that brushed the ground, and hoods hiding their faces. The third figure was a woman. I couldn't see her face in the shadows, but her voice was frightened.

"I'm telling you," I heard her protest. "I am a stranger here. I was not aware of this."

"Yet you seem to be enough aware to fear us." The deep, male voice came from the tallest figure.

"I know your masters by reputation only. We have different laws."

The shorter figure spoke. His voice was calmer, more polite. "Perhaps, but you are in _our_ territory now, and under _our _laws. One of them was broken, and you _will_ be punished."

The tall figure lashed out suddenly, seizing the woman by the throat. She screamed again.

I don't know when I began running. Every cell in my body screamed for me to stop; to leave these people alone. But I kept going. I ran right up to the tall man in the cloak, and pushed him away.

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop it! Leave her alone!"

There was a dead silence. My sense of self-preservation had caught up with me, and it was with horror I saw the bulkiness of the man I'd just shoved. Something glittered from beneath his hood. His muscular fists clenched, and a hoarse laugh broke from his lips. "And who is this?" he mocked.

The second man walked up to me. I could see nothing of his face.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I-" My voice died in my throat. I groped for my rosary. "I'm sorry," I lied. "I-I thought you were someone else."

I tried to stumble away, but the taller man seized my wrist. I gasped at the iciness of his skin. His hand felt like cold marble. _Who _are_ these people?_ I thought, terrified.

"Felix..." protested the shorter man. His voice was annoyed. "We didn't come to terrorize a human."

'_A human?'_

Felix hesitated. "Come on," the man continued. "Let's finish the job and deal with her later."

My wrist was released, but I dared not run. To my horror, I saw they were going to "finish the job" right in front of me. The man named Felix grabbed the woman's neck again, and his companion pulled her arms behind her back.

I rushed forward, heedless of Felix's cursing, and tugged at her arm. She whirled her head around to stare at me. The faint light from the lamppost lit up her face suddenly, and I recoiled in shock. Her eyes were blood red, and her skin was white as a ghost. It was the face of a devil.

I don't remember Felix shoving me away. I only remember my cry of terror as my face collided with the stony ground.

* * *

When I regained consciousness, the woman was gone, and the two men were arguing in soft voices.

"I don't see why we have to bring her." The gravelly voice had to be Felix's.

The other man had a softer tone. "It is our only alternative. Unless _you_ have another idea."

"No, I don't," Felix growled. "You make everything so difficult."

"What did you have in mind then? Kill her?"

"Exactly."

The other man laughed. "You're all about violence, Felix. No intellect whatsoever. Have you forgotten why we were sent here in the _first _place? Or do your mental capacities only go so far?"

Felix's voice was a snarl. "I resent that."

"So perhaps you might explain why killing this girl would be any different from what we punished the _other_ one for?"

Felix was silent. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure they could hear it. At least _one_ of them appeared to be on my side.

"If you need to hunt, Felix," drawled the other man. "Then get out of here. I'll take the girl myself and explain to Aro why you couldn't carry out his orders. He'll _love_ that."

_Aro._ My mind was a blur of confusion. What was going on? Was this some weird Italian cult that retained names from legend? Had I fallen into the hands of some mafia gang? _I should never have left the café. I should never have come to Italy. _

"Oh, shut up, and let's go," snapped Felix. "I'm sick of this conversation."

"After you," said the other man smoothly.

My heart thumped against my chest as the large man came towards me. I sprinted, scraping my hands on the gravel in my haste, but one of them was beside me in a second. It was the man who'd spoken against killing me. A white cloth appeared in his hands, and he pressed it roughly against my face. My eyes watered. A smell like alcohol filled my nostrils, and I was flung onto Felix's shoulder, barely conscious. The other man walked behind him, smiling at me as my mind went blank for the second time.


	7. Chapter 6: Blood & Fear

**Chapter 6: Blood and Fear **

"_What sort of place had I come to, and among what _

_kind of people? What sort of grim adventure _

_was it on which I had embarked...? _

_~ Bram Stoker ("Dracula") _

When I woke up, I knew immediately that I wasn't dreaming. Lying on the floor of a cold cell can do that to you. My arms and side were bruised from when Felix had flung me to the ground, and my nose had bled all over the front of my shirt. My hair was a mess, and my knees and palms were scraped and bloody. _I probably look like something the cat dragged in_, I thought ironically. A sour taste filled my mouth. I looked around me. A small amount of sunshine shone through a window in the ceiling, about fifteen feet above my head, but aside from four impenetrable walls and a broken chair in the corner, there was not much else. It was nothing but a dungeon.

Suddenly, there was a creaking sound, and one of the walls moved slightly. I watched in horrified amazement as it pushed outward and a woman stepped out from behind it. Her movements were quick and graceful.

"Hello!" she chirped in a sing-song voice.

I had no idea what to say. I was taken completely by surprise. Her features were like the woman that Felix had supposedly murdered, but her expression was happy and bubbly. Her hair bounced about her face in short blonde curls that glowed in the sunlight from the ceiling, and her dancing, childish eyes flashed crimson. Like me, she wore jeans and a casual t-shirt.

_Unlike_ me, though, she was stunningly beautiful.

"I'm Celeste," she said, shaking my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong. But then, I'd come to realize that these..._people_...weren't very _normal_. Or was it something else? I stepped away, uncomfortable with her cold touch. She seemed to understand. "You do know where you are, right?" she said.

"No."

She rolled her eyes. "Felix and Demetri aren't known for their explanations. You're still in Volterra-"

"Yeah right."

"-just underground." she finished.

I was stunned. "Under-under_ground_? Where...who _are_ you? What is happening? Why am I here?" I was starting to hyperventilate, and fear was driving my thoughts out of proportion. Celeste took my hands in hers gently. "Please don't be afraid. I'll try to explain, but there's very little time."

I breathed deeply, closing my eyes. She sat me down beside her on the floor. It wasn't comfortable, but her presence was the first good thing that had happened to me in a while.

"Listen," she spoke rapidly, and I tried to keep up. "The first thing you should know is that we aren't human."

_So I'm right. But then...? _

"Have you heard the legend of the Volturi?"

_Unfortunately. _"Yes."

"Think about it, sweetie, and things will start making sense."

When I retained my silence, she spoke again. "We're vampires."

I laughed weakly, with a hint of sarcasm. "I don't know if I believe that."

"You'll have to." I could almost hear the words she hadn't spoken: _If you want to survive..._ She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, how can I prove it to you?"

"Get me out of here and back home," I mumbled. I had intended to sound sarcastic, but my voice trembled. Tears gathered in my eyes. Mom. Mel and Jordan. Would I ever see them again?

Celeste put her arm around me. "Don't cry, darling. It won't help."

I sniffed, and felt something moist trickle down my nose. It must be bleeding again. She moved away from me. Her lips were pressed tightly together. "Sorry. I guess that's more proof."

"What?"

"Your nose." She pointed. I licked my lips, tasting something like rust. Gross. I looked at Celeste's white face and red eyes, and shivered. Maybe I believed her after all.

"What happens to me now?" I whispered, not bothering to wipe my face. I felt like a little child, lost and scared. Before she could answer, the wall creaked again and a voice called out to her. "Are you in here, Celeste?" I recognized the voice of the polite man of last night. What had Celeste called him? Demetri?

"Is he a vampire, too?" I whispered, but the man still overheard. "Why did you tell her?" he laughed. "It would have been such a wonderful, sudden surprise."

"Very funny, Demetri," Celeste called back, annoyed. "Does Aro want her yet?"

"Yes. Bring out the little weakling and let's get it over with."

Celeste glanced over at me. I was cringing in the shadows, my body trembling. She stood up, her face comforting, and held out her hand. "Come," she said softly.

I took her hand trustingly, though I'd only known her for five minutes. She led me through the "door" to where Demetri waited for us. His skin, though pale, was faintly olive, with hair black as midnight. His eyes were red, just like the rest of them, and they laughed at me silently. "Sorry, my love, but _I'm_ supposed to bring her."

"Alright, but don't scare the poor thing to death."

"I won't...for a favor." He grinned slyly. I watched in astonishment as Celeste wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. He growled in satisfaction, pulling at her bottom lip roughly with his teeth. I looked away, embarrassed.

"Let's go," he took my arm suddenly. I looked back, but Celeste was already gone. My one source of comfort. Demetri pulled me along, sighing with impatience at my slow pace. I was beginning to add up all the qualities of these monsters in my head; trying to match them to legends I'd heard of. There weren't many. Like Jordan, I'd never been a fan of horror or the macabre. The thought of what vampires did was revolting to me. I prayed that drinking blood wasn't another trait of theirs... _Fat chance, you fool,_ I thought. _There's no way you're getting out of here alive. _I hurried faster to keep up with Demetri. He laughed at me.

"Eager to see someone?" he smiled cruelly. "Just wait."

I wanted to punch his smug, unnaturally white face. He was treating me just like he'd treated the woman—a vampire, I realized now. I was his little plaything until _Aro_ or whoever it was did away with me.

A soft, delicate sound down the hall caught my attention, and my eyes widened as a tall woman in a dark green cloak glided past us. Her black hair was caught up in a graceful style, and diamonds were embedded in the dark curls. She stared at me curiously before drifting down another corner.

"Who was that?" I dared to ask.

Demetri looked down at me contemptuously. "Someone who will probably enjoy you as dessert."

I didn't speak again. Due to my slow walk, it took over ten minutes to reach our destination...whatever that was. We stopped in a large, dark hallway lit with blazing torches, and I stared up at a set of massive wood doors. The handles were inlaid with pure gold and silver, and finely-welded chain links lined both sides of the doors. They looked as if only a very strong person could open them. An engraving was written on the wall next to me, but Demetri pulled me away before I could read it. He opened the doors with a casual jerk, and pushed me inside. The sudden brightness hurt my eyes, but eventually they adjusted, and I took in the utter magnificence and grandeur of the place before me. The ceiling soared above us, topped with stained glass, and below it were three sets of balconies supported by massive pillars made of the purest marble. Pale figures in dark clothing gazed down at us, their skin faintly glowing in the sunlight. I looked around the room and saw it was surrounded with marble plaques of similar size and shape. Demetri walked past one, and I was able to read the Latin inscription: "_Finis vitae sed non amoris_." I recognized "_vitae_" as "life," but the rest meant nothing to me. I'd never been good at languages.

Pain lanced up my arm as Demetri yanked again impatiently. I quickly turned and followed him, only to stop dead again in amazement. In front of us were three huge chairs—thrones, I assumed—elaborately decorated and inlaid with gold and priceless jewels. They were placed on a raised marble platform with five or six steps leading up to it. The chair in the center was clearly for the leader of highest rank, since it was elevated above the other two, which were of the same height. A strange symbol was carved at the top of each one, but I couldn't see them from where I stood. The grandeur of everything took my breath away, and the whole room had a strange, majestic feeling. Almost eerily beautiful.

I realized with a sudden chill just how long vampires had been living here. My breath caught. If the legends held true, then it would have been nearly-

"_Move!_" Demetri snapped, shoving me forward. I nearly ran into three people in the center of the room, interrupting their conversation. Two of them turned to look at me, and my heart sank. More vampires.

"Master." Demetri's voice was politer than I'd ever yet heard it.

I followed his gaze to the third vampire, whose back was to us. He was dressed in elegant, dark clothing like his companions, and his long, fine hair seemed to mold into the back of his expensive suit. He nodded his head once at them, speaking a language I could not understand, and they bowed and retreated silently through the large, heavy doors.

There was a brief silence, and then the vampire turned towards us with ecstatic eyes.


	8. Chapter 7: Prince of Darkness

**Chapter 7: Prince of Darkness **

"_A face devoid of love or grace, _

_A hateful, hard, successful face, _

_A face with which a stone _

_Would feel as thoroughly at ease..." _

_~ Emily Dickinson _

I suppose I should have been afraid. Someone with greater sense would have run for the door, screaming as they went. Or they would have stood still, praying that death, in whatever form, would come easily. I did neither; not that it would have done me any good to run, anyway. For the vampire in front of me looked more than capable of inflicting pain. Death, even. His hands hung motionless at his sides, regarding us with a sudden smile of pleasure.

"Ah, Demetri, you've returned." The feathery lightness of his voice caught me by surprise. It sang in my ears gently, like foreign music without an actual tune. The vampire walked past me without stopping, and clapped Demetri on the shoulder. "It's good to see you again. But where is Felix?"

"I don't know, my lord."

"Is he not here?"

Demetri glanced around the room. "I haven't seen him. Perhaps he's with Heidi."

"Well, no matter!" Aro said, laughing. His back was to me, but I heard his tone soften to a whisper. "Did you take care of that little matter I spoke to you about?"

"Yes, my lord. And…" Demetri looked past Aro's shoulder at me. _Oh, don't. _I begged silently. _Let me just stand here, unnoticed… _"…there's something else, too."

Aro turned in the direction Demetri pointed, and smiled when he saw me. "Ah…" he said softly. He walked over to me with a fluid movement, stopping only a few feet away. I clasped my hands behind my back, my heart beating a hole in my chest. The room was choked with an eerie silence, and I felt goosebumps tingling over skin. All of the vampires stared at me with empty emotion.

A voice like honey broke through my thoughts. "Look at me, my sweet," Aro whispered. I didn't want to. I was too afraid. But slowly, very slowly, I felt as if a cold hand was forced under my chin—with death-like fingers—and I lifted my head against my will.

The darkest pair of eyes I had ever seen bored through me, leaving darts of pain behind them. They were beautifully-shaped, with curving black lashes against skin whiter than bone. Aro's eyes widened, a smile growing on his face, and I could see a strange haze over the iris. It reflected the light from the ceiling, scattering diamonds and vivid, crimson flares across the white marble I stood on.

"What is your name?" he asked me. I couldn't speak. Not when this strange vampire was looking at me. _Let me go…_ I thought. Oh, why couldn't I move?

Aro raised an eyebrow, then leaned closer. _"Lo capite, bambino? Che cosa è il vostro nome?_ What is your name?"

"Geneve," I said shakily. "My name is Geneve."

"Ah, she_ is_ American!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I do love Americans. They are so original. It grows so monotone around here with those of your own culture. Welcome to Volterra, Geneve," he smiled. "What brings you to our beautiful city?"

"Just visiting," I said hoarsely.

"How wonderful." I could almost hear his unspoken thought. _She smells delightful… _

Aro held out his hand towards me, as if to shake it, but then seemed to change his mind. Still not taking his eyes off me, he reached his hand out the other direction. I watched in bewilderment as Demetri stepped forward and placed his hand in Aro's. Aro's face never changed, but his smile was wider than ever when he finally pulled away.

"Wonderful!" he said merrily. "Such a heroic act! And not even to save one of her own kind!" He turned to me, his red eyes ecstatic. "May I see for myself?"

I stared back at him, trying to understand. I had watched him touch Demetri and somehow...somehow he'd known everything all at once. Was there something else about vampires I didn't know? I stepped back, never taking my eyes off of his face.

"She doesn't understand," murmured a voice behind me. I turned around. It was a young boy, I saw with shock. A boy with eyes like blood. Aro glanced at him swiftly, and then back at me.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Geneve!" he apologized. "Alec is correct. Perhaps I haven't made myself clear. You see, there are those among our kind who possess..._exalted_ powers, shall we say? I, and others in our little family, are among those privileged. Alec and Jane, for example..."

Aro gestured, and I saw another child step from the shadows. She was identical to the boy, who was obviously her brother. Her face—beautiful and disturbing—was turned on me, and I wanted to crawl away into a hole. Anything to escape from those horrible eyes…

"They have the ability to control…certain _senses,_ shall we say?" Aro flashed a grin at me. "I would not antagonize them."

The twins snickered. Aro smiled at them. "My jewels," he said fondly. He turned his attention back to me, leaning closer 'til I could hear him breathing. "You don't understand _my_ power?" he whispered. "It's really quite simple. With one touch, I can read every thought you have ever had."

I gaped. "Every-_every_ thought? That's not possible."

"Anything is possible, young Geneve. Intriguing, isn't it?" His gleaming smile was disarming. I cringed as his hand reached for mine again. "I _know _you won't mind allowing me the privilege..."

It wasn't a question. It was a command. With horror I comprehended Aro's gift. Was there nothing vampires couldn't do in this world? As I hesitated, I saw Felix take a step in my direction. The brute. I glared at him, and stretched out my hand fearlessly to Aro.

He took it eagerly. "Your bravery does you credit, my dear," he said, smiling.

All was quiet then, as he closed his eyes in concentration. I held my breath, expecting to feel a strange presence—a ghost of a thought inhabiting my mind, or some other inhuman effect. But I felt nothing. Nothing except his gentle touch on my hand. The vampires in the room seemed to hold their breath together, watching their leader with a look of affection mixed with loyalty.

And then…the most extraordinary thing happened.

Aro opened his eyes, and they were wide with disbelief. He seemed to be intensely concentrating on something. His teeth gritted together, and I felt the bones in my hand tighten as his grip grew tighter. The expression on his pale face darkened as the seconds dragged on.

_Are my thoughts that horrible?_ I wondered. It was astonishing to watch the play of emotions across Aro's face. Stranger still, he didn't seem to be able to control them. It was some time before a calm mask settled over his features, and he released me suddenly—almost as if my touch was hurting him. I saw his hand clench as he backed away.

"Impossible," he whispered.

A wraith-like finger crept behind Aro, her black hair hanging in her face. She wore a gray cloak similar to the vampires who'd brought me. She tugged on Aro's cloak hesitantly, her voice nervous. "M-master?" she stammered. "What—"

Aro's hand lashed out, and the young girl cowered several feet away, her red eyes terrified. Aro's face never changed. A bright, hard smile glazed over his face, and he laughed at her contemptuously. "Did I call for you, Renata, darling?" he said softly.

"N-no…" she moaned.

"Then do us a favor and get your sorry body out of my sight. I don't need you."

She scrambled to her feet, and disappeared from the room. Aro's eyes manipulated me with their cool stare. I realized that we were equal. He couldn't read my thoughts, and I failed to read his. He could end my life in one moment. And laugh while he did it.

"Demetri?" Aro said suddenly. His voice was cheerful beneath his terrible smile.

"Master."

"Take her away," he paused, looking me over silently. "Let her clean up a bit."

Demetri strode towards me purposefully.

"And Demetri...?"

"Yes, master?"

"I may need you again soon. You know what to bring."

The olive-skinned vampire nodded, and seizing my arm, he pulled me towards the exit. The vampires I passed burned me with their stares. The room was seething with resentment. I looked back over my shoulder once, ignoring Demetri's nails digging into my skin.

Aro was staring at me. The mask was gone, and his eyes were livid with a dark emotion.


	9. Chapter 8: The Truth

**Chapter 8: The Truth **

"_The truth is rarely pure _

_and never simple..." _

_(Oscar Wilde) _

Celeste was waiting for us back at my cell. "How'd it go?" she asked me. I stared up at my guard at kept my mouth shut. Her lips pursed, as if she understood.

"Aro wants her cleaned up," Demetri said shortly, flinging me towards her. He then tried to curve his arm around Celeste's waist, but she pushed him away.

"Are you finished terrorizing her now?" she hissed, holding me close.

Demetri looked shocked.

"Pick on someone your own size," she continued. "It's what you and Felix are _good_ at, isn't it?"

Demetri abruptly recovered, and reached out; grasping her neck between his fingers. "Be careful, love," he whispered. "It's only because of me you're alive in the first place."

"Just have some sympathy for her," she gasped. "Like you did towards me."

"I sympathize for no human," he snapped. He spat on the floor at my feet, and disappeared into the murky blackness behind us.

"Let's go," Celeste whispered. I couldn't believe it. There wasn't a single mark her neck, whereas a strong hold like that would have broken my jaw.

"Are you ok?" I asked softly.

She smiled at me, and brushed her blonde hair from her face. "Yes. I'm used to it." And without further elaborating, she bid me follow her for several minutes, until we stopped.

"Here you go." Celeste gestured to a set of small, open doors in front of us. I edged forward uneasily, then stopped when a curl of steam glided out from the inside.

"It's alright," she said impatiently. "Just tidy yourself up and…change your clothes," she added, trying not to look at the blood on my shirt. "I'll be back for you later."

"Thanks," I mumbled, but she had already left. I took a deep breath, and pushed open the door until it swung wide open.

A rush of heat swept over my face, and I dropped my shivering arms in astonishment. It was _warm. _Everything was so cold here—the walls, my prison cell, the vampires and their eerie silences—but _this…_ I closed my eyes, relishing the warmth that soaked through my skin into my impoverished veins. There were no dark corners, or dressing rooms of any sort, but I soon found that the thick steam hid my body from anyone who might happen to come in. Dry, soft towels hung in neat rows at the edge, along with several bars of odd-smelling soap. I kicked my clothes in a tangled pile by the wall, then sank into the deep pool that emanated steam and comfort throughout the entire chamber. _This is it,_ I thought peacefully. _I've died and gone to heaven._ _It's all just a bad dream… _I knew I was fooling myself, but I didn't want to concentrate on unhappy thoughts. I only wanted to think of the raw heat soaking into my hair…my skin…my lips…

My eyes snapped open suddenly. I groped wildly behind me for a towel, drawing it tightly against my body in the water. There was someone in the room. My heart pounded like a rabbit's, and I grasped my chest with both hands in an effort to calm it.

"Who is there?" I called out fearfully. No one answered, of course. Why should they? I crouched in the pool, up to my chin in hot water. Eventually my heartbeats subsided to a gentle rhythm, and I found the ability to breathe again. Whoever it had been, they had now gone. I stepped from the water, shivering with pleasure as the colder air tingled on my skin. "Where are my clothes?" I muttered, slipping on the wet floor.

My question was answered in the form of a soft dress, neatly folded, in the driest part of the room. I slipped it on, sighing as the fabric slid gently over my naked body. The color was a light turquoise, with tiny beads separating the sleeves from the bodice. It was clearly old-fashioned, but the style went beyond my knowledge. It didn't even look Renaissance, and I was unable to go any further back. I lifted a piece of lace in my hand, and brought it to my face to examine more closely. It was then I noticed the strong, erotic scent that arose from the woven cloth. Almost floral, yet darker, stranger…unlike any scent I'd ever experienced. My nostrils burned from the fiery sweetness, and I looked up suddenly in shock.

A dark shape stood before me at the door, its face hidden in darkness. The mist curled away from it, wisping vaguely as if nothing were really there. I stopped breathing. After an eternity of frozen silence, the figure turned and glided out of sight, leaving me with the lace clenched tight in my hand.

* * *

It wasn't long before Demetri barged into my cell again and yanked me to my feet. "Come," he said rudely. As if I had a choice. It was either that, or I would get my arm ripped from its socket. Several hours had passed since the chilling incident in the bathing room, but the ice had not yet melted from my veins. I knew only too well where Demetri was taking me. What was less clear was whether or not I would return…

A beautiful woman stalked towards us, her red heels echoing in the stillness.

"Back again, Heidi? I hope you brought some _fresh _fish this time."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Aro isn't interested in that today. He's too pissed off." Her eyes, strangely violet, glared at me with a look of such hatred, I had to turn away. "This little brat has sparked quite a fire, I'm afraid. He intends to resolve it as soon as possible."

"Great," Demetri groaned. "Now we're going to starve."

"You'll survive," she snapped. She brushed past us, her hard arm knocking against mine. I winced. _That will leave a bruise._

"Still jealous…" Demetri muttered. He pulled at me again. I stumbled after him, wishing he didn't have to take out his frustration on me. But who was I kidding? I was the idiotic human to have stumbled into a nest of vampires. Like an unknowing deer wandering in the midst of a wolf pack. I was endangered every second I spent here, and those seconds were numbering down _very_ quickly.

The familiar brightness stung my eyes as the heavy doors of the throne room clanged shut behind me. The wavering shadows on the balconies had disappeared, and the only ones present were Demetri, Felix, the girl Renata…and Aro. He stood with his back to us, his hands clasped behind him. "Welcome again, Geneve," he whispered. Then, "Let her go, Demetri."

My skin burned as my guard released me. I would have permanent calluses on my upper arms at this rate. I stood alone in the middle of the floor, just like before. Alone and oh, so vulnerable.

Aro turned around. His smile was dazzling. "So good of you to return," he said. "We've missed you and your interesting…talents." He put peculiar emphasis on that last word.

Demetri kicked me in the shin. "Answer him."

"Now, now" Aro chided. "Let's be kind to one another, shall we? Geneve is our guest!" He held out his hand courteously, as if he wanted to shake mine. I took it, and he pulled me in swiftly towards him. His eyes darkened, and he bent once more over our joined hands.

My heart froze. _Oh, God. Not again. _

Aro was biting his lip now—I tried not to look at his teeth too closely—and I could see a line form between his eyebrows. He stared up at me again, letting out a sharp sigh.

"Tell me, my dear," he asked politely. "Why do you think it is I cannot read your thoughts?"

I looked straight into his eyes. Honesty was the only way I knew out of this. "I don't know."

"Nonsense," he laughed. "Come now. Tell me what you're hiding."

"I'm hiding nothing."

"You're lying, Geneve."

"Do you not understand English?" I snapped. _I. Don't. KNOW!" _

A gasp echoed in the sudden stillness, and I saw Renata staring at me fearfully from behind Aro's back. Her eyes could have been those of a child, were it nor for the vivid redness of the irises. She shook her head at me, putting a finger to her lips.

"I'm sorry," I muttered feebly. "I didn't…think…"

My voice died into a whisper. I looked around and saw Aro's guard boring holes into me with their stares. Anger, hatred…all was branded on their sculpted faces. I looked down at my hands, because I was afraid. Because there was nowhere else to look. Because I could hear each vampire counting down the beats of my frantic heart…

"Master?" Renata whimpered.


	10. Chapter 9: Broken Barriers

**Chapter 9: Broken Barriers **

"_So haunt thy days and chill thy dreaming nights_

_That thou would wish thine own heart dry of blood_

_So in my veins red life might stream again…"_

_(John Keats) _

Aro released my hand and stepped back.

"Clear the room," he called to Felix. The huge vampire gestured to the others and they drifted away; Renata slinking unwillingly behind them. Felix turned back to Aro.

"Leave us."

The huge vampire bowed and disappeared. As soon as he was gone, Aro stepped towards me. His hand was suddenly cold on my neck, and he leaned closer until his lips brushed my ear. I heard each word; clear and articulate.

"I know you're doing something," he whispered dangerously. "Tell me what it is."

My voice was a whisper, too, but only through fear. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You're blocking me somehow. What haven't you told me?"

"I've told you. I don-"

A sharp blow struck me in the face, and I crashed to the floor like a wooden doll. Aro advanced towards me, his eyes snapping viciously. I cowered before him, tears starting in my eyes.

"Tell me..." he whispered. "Tell me one good reason why I shouldn't just kill you now."

Cold fear struck my heart, but I wasn't going without a fight. "Why are you so angry?" I cried. My face hurt terribly. "I don't _know_ why you can't read my thoughts! You're only upset because your power failed."

"Yes," he hissed. "And I destroy anything that comes in the way of that power. How do you think I got to where I am now? No..." He shook his head, the calm mask returning, and looked at me with something akin to pity. When he spoke again, his voice was smooth as honey. "I'd better kill you, young Geneve."

He lifted me gently to my feet, and wrapped both hands about my throat. Death was in those eyes—those terrible, beautiful eyes—and…I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. I wondered how many other humans had seen what I saw before their last moments on earth…

His fingers pressed tighter, choking me. A vision of Mel and Jordan rose before my eyes. They were smiling, with their arms around each other's shoulders. The only friends I had in the world. I closed my eyes as oxygen struggled up my throat, and a third figure appeared. It was a small woman with hair that glowed red against her old-fashioned dress.

_Mom._ Tears pricked my eyes. I slowly relaxed, letting the wave of memories and loved ones wash over me until….until…. I wasn't afraid anymore. I only felt their love for me, radiating from my heart throughout my entire body. I opened my eyes, and met the fiery brightness of the vampire in front of me. His hands had slipped to my shoulders, and his expression was fluctuating between an agony of frustration and triumph.

"Please," I whispered. "Get it over with."

"No…" he said softly. His hands pressed either side of my face, forcing me to hold my gaze. His eyes were very bright and excited. "I _heard _you."

"That's impossible. You said you couldn't."

"Do you miss your mother, Geneve?" he whispered. "And your friends? The sounds of Italy?"

"I—"

"Do it again," he urged. He was hurting me. A tear fell from my eyes, staining his fingertips. "I can't tell you how…how you heard. I don't know. Please don't ask me."

His hands released my face, and the skin burned as he drew away. "Oh, not _now_, of course." His fingers idly brushed a lock of hair from my neck. The eager look in his eyes frightened me. "But I _will _find the answer, my sweet. You may depend on another visit _very_ soon."

Aro's dark form blurred in front of my eyes, and I edged towards the door. "May I leave now, please?"

"Of course," he said absently. His white hands clapped together with a sharp sound, and I heard him laughing gleefully as I fled back down the chamber. I could feel my self-control ripping apart at the seams, and groaned with despair when I realized I didn't even know the way back to my cell, much less anywhere else. _I need to get away. I _have_ to get away… _

He had read my thoughts. I couldn't believe it. I felt as if a cold hand had reached inside of me, examined my heart with gleeful eyes, and then tossed it back with contempt. I felt violated. Betrayed… Betrayed from what? _Oh, Celeste, where _are _you?_

I tore around the next corner, and collided headlong into the stone wall

"Ohhh…" I moaned, picking myself up. It was then I saw it wasn't a wall at all. The dazzling apparition I'd crashed into showed her teeth at me in anger.

"_Vigilanza fuori!" _she snarled.

"I'm sorry."

She stopped, looked at me closer, and her eyes flamed an even darker red. "Ah," she murmured. "I thought you were one of those witch twins..." Her English was very soft and distinct, with the crisp edge of an Italian accent. It would have been a remarkably appealing voice, if I hadn't noticed the cruelty of her bony hands clenched into fists, or shied away from the crimson stain of her lips…

"Who are you?" I whispered.

"Athenodora." Her cold face never moved a muscle. I watched in terror as her tongue slowly licked past her beautiful lips, and she reached towards my face… Suddenly her head whipped around, nostrils flaring, and she hissed in anger. I turned, seeing nothing but a white shape about twenty feet away. She flashed past me in a blur of red and white, and I was alone once more.

I touched the wall. The cold stones felt good under my fingertips. Then I knelt down. It was even better against my burning, sweaty forehead. I sucked in the cool air, trying to ignore the voice that was stealing through my subconscious—breaking, binding…disconnecting all I knew to be real…

"_I _will _find the answer, my sweet." _

Blood and beauty swirled before my eyes in a thousand different colors, and I dragged myself to my feet weakly. _"Geneve…my sweet."_

If I'd had any voice, I would've screamed for the whole corridor to hear. My fists smashed against the unrelenting stone, as if they heard me and were laughing together in malice.

"_Please!"_ I hissed, as loudly as I dared. "_Get me out of here!" _

* * *

**Sigh... If you only knew, dear readers, how much I struggle with this story. I fight with Aro's character, trying to mold it into the perfect shape, but I still feel like I'm failing. And then...then I read your wonderful reviews, and I have the courage to write yet another chapter. :) Just keep reviewing. It keeps me going. **

**Also, a side-note. It occurred to me this chapter might confuse someone, because it isn't quite clear why Aro can suddenly catch a quick glimpse of Geneve's thoughts. Trust me. You'll find out soon enough. Let me just say that there is only one thing that can thwart Aro in his lust for evil and power, and he's run up against that in a young human girl :) **


	11. Chapter 10: Hidden Secrets

**Chapter 10: Hidden Secrets **

_"__Dreams are real as long as they last. _

_Can we say more of life?"  
(__Havelock Ellis__)_

"Geneve! Geneve? Are you alright?"

Celeste found me lying on the stone floor, asleep from exhaustion and stress. What could I tell her? Ask if she could get me out of this hell-hole? I just shook my head, and grabbed her shoulder for support.

"Honestly, girl," she sighed. "I can't look after you _all_ the time. You have to watch your back."

I coughed. "Do you I have to go back to that cell?" I whispered.

"Yes. I'm sorry. But until other…arrangements," she spoke the word delicately, "have been made, you'll have to stay where Aro wants you."

"For how long?"

"Depends on what Aro decides."

"Don't…" I began, but a cough cut me short. Celeste looked at me with concern. "Don't what?"

"Don't say his name again."

Celeste opened her mouth to speak, but one look at my face changed her mind. We reached the cell, and she pulled me inside. "Here," she said kindly. "Sit down and try to breathe."

I leaned against the wall, panting. "I wish I was dead…I wish I was dead…" I whispered.

"Why?" she asked. Her cold fingers stroked my hair.

"I don't want him to hurt me."

"If I know Aro, Geneve, then—"  
"How long have you been here?" I interrupted.

She stared at me, surprised. "Um…about five years, I think."

"Five?" I laughed. "And you think you know him?" In my anxiety, I grew cruel. "You say you can help me. Why would anyone listen to _you?_ You're _no one_ here!"

Celeste watched me with sad eyes. "You're right," she said softly. "I'm no one."

I looked away, regretting my outburst. I'd hurt her feelings, and I didn't even intend to. There was a long silence, during which I never heard her breathe, even once. Finally, she spoke.

"Geneve…" she whispered. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes. I'm sorry—I didn't mean to say…what I said before."

"No, you were right, like I said. I'm the youngest vampire here, and not just how long my stay has been with the Volturi. I'm only 55, by vampire years."

I stared. "Is that young?"

She smiled at my ignorance. "Aro and his brothers are over three thousand years old."

"Oh." What else could I say?

"Do you believe me?"

"I…I just have a hard time believing all this."

Celeste smiled. "I understand." She leaned forward and brushed her cool lips against my forehead. "Good night," she murmured. "No one will harm you. They wouldn't dare. Aro has too much staked on you living as it is."

"Why?" I said desperately. "Why me? What does he want?"

Her eyes hardened. "Power," she said flatly. "That's all he ever wants."

And with these comforting words, she slipped through the sliding door, leaving me in the cold darkness to brave my first night among the Volturi.

_The vampires all congregated around their leader, licking their lips in anticipation. _

"_Be patient, my darlings," he whispered. "Your time will come…just wait a little longer." _

_I walked forward, curious, but the black cloaks blocked anything from my view. What were they all looking at? I spoke to a figure beside me, but she didn't see me. Her red eyes flickered, and her hands were clenched excitedly. "Now, my lord?" she pleaded. _

"_Yes," their leader whispered. I gasped, recognizing Aro's voice, but I didn't have time to think about it, for I could now see what the vampires were thirsting after. The body of a young girl lay on the ground, and her throat was punctured in no less than five places. Blood streamed from the wounds, which matched the red stains on her wrists and ankles. She was dead. _

_Aro looked up at me. A smile lit his bloodless face. "Geneve! Just in time!" he sang. _

_All at once, I was no longer standing, but spread out on the floor like the girl. Her body became mine. Her blood became my own, and her peaceful smile was pasted on my own face. _

_The vampires leaned in, snarling and hissing by turns. One reached for my throat… _

I opened my eyes, breathing hoarsely, and clutched my neck with one hand. _It's just a dream, _I told myself. The black pool of consciousness slowly subsided, and I faded back into dreamless sleep. _It's just a dream…_

* * *

"You're sure you're alright?" Celeste asked for the third time.

"Sure, Celeste. I'm only going to visit a diabolical vampire who can rip me in shreds."

"She's smart, this human," Demetri chuckled from behind us. His fingers touched my shoulder. "Don't worry," he whispered in my ear. "I'm sure he'll share with _all_ of us."

I shoved him away, not as afraid when Celeste was beside me. I'd already gotten the idea that there was some feud between her and Heidi over Demetri. Apparently Heidi had known him before, but Celeste had arrived and stolen her place. All things considered, I could definitely count Heidi out as one less friend I would make in this place.

"Ignore him," Celeste said, smiling at me comfortingly. Was _she_ the only one?

My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed we'd stopped. I stared in confusion at the empty hallway in front of me. A single torch burned to the left, the flame flickering.

"This isn't the throne room," I said aloud.

"Good observation, sweetie," snickered Demetri. Celeste elbowed him in the ribs, but he only laughed and walked off. She turned back to me. "Look," she whispered, holding my shoulders. "I know you're afraid of…_him…_but you have to stay calm. Do you understand me?"

"Celeste…" I hadn't been frightened, only nervous, but the look in her eyes sent my heart pumping madly. "Celeste, what are you talking about?"

She shook me gently. _"Listen to me! _If you just do what he says, he won't hurt you. _Trust _me."

I nodded. What had she heard?

"Promise?"

"Yes," I whispered.

"Ok." She kissed my forehead—softly, like my mother would—and pushed me towards an open door several feet away. Light spilled out onto the stones, eerily-yellow and revealing. I whirled around and grabbed Celeste's arm. "Don't leave me!" I pleaded.

She shook her head, vanishing from my grasp. I stared in the opposite direction of the light. It looked even more dangerous, and I had too many enemies at present to brave it myself. Celeste was gone, and the only family I had were in America, possibly still in ignorance about my disappearance. I didn't even know what day it was. Time here was measured in _years_. Centuries. Not days.

_"…Over three thousand years old…" _

I lifted my head, startled. A soft sound drifted through the hallway towards me. It came from the open door.

"Hello?" I called. My voice was hoarse, but a vampire had exceptional hearing. Someone _had_ to have heard me. The sound changed, shifting into a more melodious rhythm. _Its music,_ I realized. Someone was playing an instrument. Piano…or a harp, perhaps. I followed the sweet sound, entranced in spite of myself. I called out again, but no one answered. There was nothing but music. It pulsed gently around me, getting louder as I reached the door and pushed it open wide.

Light fell from a small hole in the ceiling, filtering down around a grand piano covered in dust. I stepped tentatively inside, curious, until I realized the music had stopped.

"Geneve?"

My heart froze, and I turned to see a dark shape step from behind the piano. His white fingers trailed up the keys slowly, coming to rest on the dusty cover.

I inclined my head nervously, grateful that the semi-darkness hid his eyes. "A—" I started to say, then stopped. What could I call him? I decided to mimic the others. "My…my lord?"

Aro smiled, his teeth glittering in the sunlight from the ceiling. "Clever girl," he whispered. He suddenly appeared in front of me, gesturing to a chair against the wall.

"Now, shall we begin?"

* * *

**If you only knew, dear readers, how much this story kills me. Please review. I need it. **


	12. Chapter 11: A Dangerous Game

**Chapter 11: A Dangerous Game **

"…_When you look into an abyss, _

_the abyss also looks into you."_

_(Nietzsche) _

A moment later, I found myself seated on a small chair not far from the piano. Aro walked slowly around the room, lighting the various candelabra that surrounded us. I looked up at the fading light. Did daytime _never _last here? It felt that only moments ago I'd heard Celeste coming to get me again, followed by the ever-present Demetri. Was that in the morning? Afternoon? I felt as if I was slowly losing my sense of reality, and I would stumble out of here a raving lunatic.

_What makes you think you'll ever leave?_ a voice whispered.

_Shut up! _

"So! Geneve! How are you this evening?" Aro seated himself gracefully on the piano bench beside me. I noticed he was wearing a cloak similar to the guard, except it was a deep shade of black. I smiled absently, appreciating the curve and flow of material over his hard muscles. It suited him.

My eyes widened, and I refocused. _Are you insane? _the voice hissed. I took a deep breath and looked up to see Aro watching me in fascination.

"What on earth were you thinking just now?" he asked. I said nothing. "Oh, but no matter!" he laughed, waving his hand. "That is what we are here for, is it not? To divulge your secrets? To delve into your deepest, most private thoughts?" His hands reached out towards me, taking both of mine gently. The same phase of emotions fluttered across his face, and he sighed again. "I need your help, my dear," he said politely. "Perhaps you could tell me what your thoughts were the other day?"

"I—I don't…"

"Or think of it _now,_" he interrupted. He let go of one of my hands, keeping the other tight in his grasp. "Now, while I listen."

I pretended to close my eyes, and think very hard, but I was really doing nothing. This was ridiculous. Aro was the last person I wanted reading my mind…gaining control of me. I wouldn't do anything. He could kill me, but he _wouldn't_ rob me of my memories.

The minutes dragged on, and I grew weary of sitting upright in the uncomfortable chair. I tried moving several times, but Aro's eyes would snap open and fix themselves on me until I settled down again. The room grew darker. Aro sat patiently, tracing his fingers aimlessly across my palm, occasionally humming something to himself in a low tone. I became transfixed by the movement of his fingers. It felt…good. Pleasant. I closed my eyes again, letting that icy feeling brush over my skin…never stopping…never swaying. I looked at Aro. His hair was longer than I'd thought it was; falling over his shoulders and down his back.

_It's beautiful,_ I thought peacefully. _Black is beautiful. _I let my eyes travel over his pale skin, and taste the searing redness of his lips as they moved in silent song. _Red is beautiful, too…_

My body relaxed, and a sigh brushed past my lips.

Aro's hands seized my face, shattering the atmosphere I'd created around us. I gasped.

"Again!" he whispered, breathing roughly. "Do it again, Geneve! Once more!"

"I can't!"

His strong hands crushed my face. "Yes, you can, you little fool! _Do it again!"_

I moaned, almost suffocating, when the doors at the far end of the room banged open. Felix appeared, followed closely by Renata's trembling figure. "My lord, you must come at once."

Aro left my side, gliding across the floor. "Trouble, Felix?" he asked calmly.

"We had a breach several minutes ago. Five humans dead."

Aro turned around. The candlelight reflected the terror in my eyes. Without saying a word, he gestured the two of them door and I was left alone.  
"No, you don't…" I muttered, scrambling to my feet. I wasn't going to stay here by myself to be easy prey for vampires like Demetri, or that horrible woman I'd seen twice wandering the hallways. I sped through the door just in time to see Aro's cloak brushing past the end of the corridor to my left. I ran after him, and came face to face with Renata herself. She was standing behind the throne room doors, about to close them securely.

"Please!" I whispered. "Let me come in!"

"Go away!" she hissed. "You shouldn't be here! You don't belong here."

I pushed at her hands, though they were hard as rock. "Don't leave me here alone," I begged.

Her red eyes softened, but the fear in them did not diminish. She nodded finally, slipping me quietly inside. She pushed me into a dark corner, where I would be least noticed. I watched her join Aro quickly by his throne, where his brothers sat, blankly staring before them. Only Aro leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with emotion and pleasure. "Proceed, Felix," he said sweetly.

At a sign from Felix, two vampires in grey cloaks stepped forward, dragging a man and a woman between them. They were human, I realized. I wanted to scream out to them, but I didn't dare at risk of my own life. _Coward. _

"Human?" Aro sounded as surprised as I was. "Is this an insult, Felix? Have we somehow replaced the _Polizia _of the city to complete their own menial tasks?"

Felix yanked back both their heads by the hair for an answer. Their throats looked like something from a Hammer horror film—deep puncture holes in the muscle of the throat, with scabby crust and dried blood surrounding it. I looked at their faces. They were very pale. Unhealthy.

"Who caused this?" snapped one of Aro's brothers; the one with white hair.

"We found the immortal responsible…in a pile of ash," Felix replied. "He drained the five humans, then had these two murder _him, _apparently, to avoid execution…"

"…and left two deranged half-bloods in his place," Aro finished softly. "Interesting." He stepped down off the platform, looking deep into the mortals' eyes. _"Most _interesting." He sighed. "Well, there is only one thing left to be done, I'm afraid."

"Obviously," snapped his brother.

"Patience, Caius, patience…"

"Patience?" The vampire stood up, spitting on the floor at the human's feet. "It's_ revolting," _he hissed, eyes burning. He then left the room, with Jane's twin brother, Alec, close behind him.

Aro looked at Felix, and they both chuckled at some silent joke. "Come now," Aro smiled.

What happened next was so quick, so horrific, I almost believed I'd misinterpreted it somehow. One second Aro's hands were around the woman's neck, and the next…the next moment she was…_gone._ Her arm wasn't where it should have been, and I shivered with terror as the man's body was tossed alongside hers, only to be set on fire by a small device in Felix's hand.

I turned away, grasping at the door frantically. It was heavy, but I finally managed to pry it open enough for a person to fit through. Shaking badly, I was halfway out the door, when my foot caught, and I tripped and fell. Every head in the room turned towards me…including Aro's. I saw him look at Renata, and lift his hand in the air…

I ran, scraping my hands on the stone, but he was behind me in a second, pinning my arms behind me until I screamed. I looked behind us. The doors were closed. We were entirely alone.

"What's the matter, darling?" he whispered soothingly. His dark hair brushed across my face. "Why did you not stay where I put you?"

"I didn't…want to be alone," I sobbed. Oh, God, it hurt so badly.

Aro shook his head at me, almost like a scolding grandfather, and pulled me after him to where we had previously met. The candles burned more fiercely than ever, playing off the piano's glossy surface.

Aro forced me to look at him. "Geneve," he said gently. "Do you want what happened to those criminals to happen to you?"

"No."

"Do you think you are strong enough of joining us as an immortal?"

Was this a trick question? Either way, I would risk it. "Of course," I said bravely. "If _they_ could endure it, then why can't I?"

Aro laughed merrily. "You think so, my sweet? I do adore your courage. A rare quality in humans." He stepped away from me, leaving my face burning. I watched as his deft fingers threw off his cloak, then undid the buttons of his right sleeve cuff; rolling it up to his elbow.

"Wha—what are you doing?" I demanded.

Aro smiled, then shocked me by drawing his teeth swiftly across his lower arm. Blood trickled like rain to the floor.

"Oh!" I turned my face away, covering my eyes. What was he _doing?_

"It's only blood," he said softly. "Nothing to be afraid of."

"Don't touch me." My voice was barely a rasp, especially with the red mass staining the floor beneath my feet.

"Would you like a taste?" he continued, coming closer. He held his arm out before him; white and bloody and revealing.

"Stop it!" I screamed, curling away from him. His cold hand grasped my ankle, yanking me back towards him across the floor. It was like fighting against gravity, and I twisted in his grip helplessly.

"Am I frightening you?" he asked sweetly. His knees pressed down on my legs painfully, preventing any movement. His cold fingers touched the dark blue veins of my wrists, and I could swear I saw him run his tongue across his teeth.

"Beautiful," he whispered, tracing them down my arms to the curve above my elbow. He looked up suddenly and saw me watching him with horror. A strange expression lit his face.

"Here," he said, brushing his fingers across his arm. He lifted them to my lips, ignoring how I recoiled in disgust. "Taste."

I was afraid to disobey, especially considering his close proximity to my own flesh. I opened my lips slowly, wondering if it was all just a dark dream.

Aro's arm flashed before my face, and I felt his skin press violently against my mouth. I choked, trying to shove him away, but the pressure continued as the bitter taste consumed me. It was horrible beyond all imagining. I could feel his cold, soft skin touching me, stroking my hair, and yet he was tearing my heart at the same time. I sobbed as I drank, and my tears mixed with the blood. The purest ecstasy filled me, but it was always eclipsed by the pain he was inflicting on me. _Make it stop…make it stop…_

After what seemed an eternity, Aro let me go, and I shrank into his arms like a corpse. I gripped his skin tightly, wondering why he was shaking, when I realized it was me. My body was ripping in half with pain and shock, and I sobbed like a deranged creature.

"You see?" Aro whispered softly in my ear. "I was right. You are_ not_ strong enough."

"Just stop it. Please…" I moaned. Blood—his blood—covered the lower half of my face, and stained my new clothes. I was lathered in shame at my own weakness, and his cruel reminder.

Aro lifted my face in his hands, looking into my eyes with an expression of curiosity mixed with…something else. Something stranger. As he got closer, I realized I'd been holding my breath the entire time. My lungs heaved, and I made the foolish mistake of letting out a rush of air as I inhaled the fresh oxygen. Aro's hair ruffled slightly at the edges, and I watched his pupils dilate to a bottomless shade of black. His nostrils flared, and a savage growl tore from his throat.

I had no warning. My head slammed violently into the wall (thank God it wasn't stone), and a whirlwind of stars vibrated in front of my eyes. A cold sensation was creeping up my throat, and an even colder touch locked my body against his. He was holding me again. Hurting me. I looked up just in time to see something white flash above my throat, and Aro's grip grew tighter. My consciousness vaguely reached for that emotion called fear, but I couldn't find it. I was going to die. How interesting.

"Master?"

Aro wrenched away, and I collapsed as his arms left my body. I looked up through tangled hair to see him standing by the door, staring at me. I reached up and touched where he had grazed my neck, and a drop of liquid stained my fingertips. Blood.

I looked up. The wild lust in Aro's eyes froze my heart in place

"Master?"

A shudder shook his body, and he took me in one last time before disappearing out the open door. _Let Jane find him, _I thought feebly. _Please. _I imagined what a succulent treat I would be for the malicious little girl. I felt my aching body unstiffen slowly, and I sank to the floor, pressing my hands to my mouth so no one would hear me scream.

I was in pain, yes. In pain, and almost in complete shock by what I'd just seen and experienced. And yet, something…something deep inside me—like a darker instinct never revealed—had rejoiced to taste his blood on my tongue, and feel his cold, stony body pressing against mine…


	13. Chapter 12: Rise in Favor

**Chapter 12: A Strange Favor **

"_Can you hear heaven cry _

_The tears of an angel…?" _

_(RyanDan) _

"_Please. Don't leave me here alone…" _

"…_only one thing left to be done, I'm afraid…" _

"_Do you think you are strong enough, Geneve…?" _

…_..his body pressed against mine…blood on my tongue…_

I was in that state of consciousness where you wait patiently for the pain to stop, and the memories to fade; certain that you will find relief, and eventually stand upon your own two feet again. But the time dragged on, and the memories only intensified. To distract myself from the pain and bruises on my body, I tried to discern why Aro had done what he did. Was it revenge? Anger at me because I was that one rare, unreadable being? Or did he torture me out of pure malice? If so…why me? Why was _I_ the one to bear his rage?

"He won't let this go," I whispered aloud. The realization hit me like a knife. _He will go on, searching for an answer, even if it kills me. _But _would_ he kill me? How much did this "talent" of mine mean to him? According to Celeste, he already had quite an array of talented vampires at his command. What purpose did _I _serve?

My thoughts abruptly vanished when I heard the door creak on its hinges. Only three candles were still burning in the room, so I couldn't see the shape that glided through the door.

"Geneve? Is that you?"

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. "Yes," I whispered. She was by my side in an instant, and I could see her skin and red eyes glowing in the darkness.

"Where have you been? I've been looking _everywhere_ for you. You're lucky Demetri didn't find you first! What—"

Her voice died away when I lifted my head. I couldn't blame her. The shock was reflected on my own face, as well.

"Are you—" She hesitated. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." My voice sounded otherwise; raspy and frail. Celeste knelt beside me, drawing her long, thin legs underneath her. She reached out and touched my cheek with a gentle hand. "You look terrible. What happened?"

What could I say? I was still trying to understand the last few hours myself. Clear up the horror and–something else—that swirled inside of my heart. "Nothing."

Celeste's nostrils flared as the scent in the room reached her. She laughed lightly. "You know, Geneve, I wouldn't mind if you joined us as a vampire, but…aren't you going about it the wrong way?" She gestured to the mess covering my face, neck, and hands.

"Celeste…I wasn't trying to kill myself."

She raised her eyebrows. "Of course, the funniest thing is…" she sniffed my skin, "…this isn't human blood."

I said nothing. _"You are not strong enough," he whispered. Wild lust in his eyes… _

"Geneve?" I felt Celeste shaking me. "What happened?"

"I can't…I don't want to…" I mumbled incoherently. My voice trembled with fear, and she gave me a quick hug.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not helping. I just wish you'd tell me who did this to you."

My mind formulated the words, but my mouth opened uselessly. She watched me closely. "Has Felix been bothering you? No one else should have been in here. Aro's orders."

I looked up at her miserably, a tear falling down my cheek, and made a silent gesture with my head. Celeste's eyes widened, and she moved back a little.

"Oh," she whispered.

Eventually I was lifted to my feet, and led back to the bathing chamber just like on my first day. Celeste seemed unperturbed by the blood surrounding me, until I realized it wasn't even my own, nor human. She left me alone in privacy, but I couldn't feel completely secure. After all, what had happened last time? I let hot water run soothingly into my mouth, washing away the horrible taste before I spat it out again. I arose from the pools clean and untainted, but my heart was heavy with uncertainty.

Celeste was waiting for me when I got out with fresh clothing. It was another old-fashioned dress, exactly my size. "Can't I just wear jeans like you do?" I asked.

"We don't have any," she replied. "Of course, the Volturi can get anything they want, so there must be a reason you're given these particular clothes."

We walked down the hallway together in silence. I turned right at the familiar corner, but Celeste stopped me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, surprised. "This is where my cell is."

"You're not living there anymore," was all she said. She pulled me behind her, ignoring my questions. As she led me up a small flight of stairs, I noticed the air get considerably lighter as the smell of mold and rust disappeared. The stones looked cleaner, too, I thought, running my fingers along the wall.

"Are we there yet?" I asked.

"Almost." She pulled me past a grim statue of a man stabbing something—an animal, perhaps?—and then stopped before one of the doors. "Here we are." We stood there for a moment, when she pushed me forward impatiently. "Well, open it!"

I reached for the knob, but stepped back suddenly. The figure of a woman was cut into the metal. She lay spread out, as if sleeping, and a pair of delicate wings protruded from her back. She was clutching something in her fist. I looked closer, and saw with shock that a ring of skulls surrounded the outer part of the knob, and the object she was holding was a tiny human heart.

I looked up at Celeste. "What is this?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "How should I know? There's a lot of weird things up here. But you haven't even looked inside yet, Geneve. Open the door."

I obeyed her this time, and a breath of scented air washed across my face. I was standing in a bedroom—small, but infinitely larger than my cell. The scent was coming from fresh flowers that dotted the room here and there, and provided a lovely contrast with the soft red color of the rugs beneath my feet. I walked around, taking in everything. There was a canopied bed, a dressing cabinet, a small bathroom off to the side—even a vanity laid out with various accessories. I sat on the chair in front of it, peering into the mirror.

"Oh, my gosh," I whispered.

Celeste came closer. "What's wrong?"

I touched my face, watching as the girl in the reflection brushed her hand across the hollow cheekbones…the shadowy eyes... the straggly red hair. "I look _awful." _

"It's not that bad," she said soothingly. "I mean, aren't you glad Aro chose this room for you? Now you can fix yourself up any way you want."

"Aro?" I was shocked. "This was _his_ idea?"

"Of course." She smiled. "You must have done something to please him, sweetie. He doesn't give favors lightly."

"But…" I looked back at the zombie in the mirror. "I did nothing!"

Celeste patted my shoulder. "Well, you have a decent place now, Geneve. _Relax."_

"So this is all mine?" I stared in disbelief at the soft beauty surrounding me. "Everything?"

"Yes! I told you!" She left my side, and looked at me from the doorway. "Will you be alright by yourself? I really need to feed, Geneve."

"But how?" I asked, ignoring the first question. "I thought it was a crime to kill in the Volturi's city."

"It is, but…we have sources to help us to…" She stopped. "Good heavens, Geneve. I'm not going to freak you out with our morbid secrets. Just get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning."

"Alright. Good night, Celeste."

"Good night, honey. Don't worry. You're much safer up here."

The door closed behind her, and I was alone.

_You're much safer up here. _Was I? Or was she just trying to comfort me? Her evasion of my question was unnerving, but I tried to forget it as I got ready for bed. The room was in beautiful condition, and I even managed to find some soft, silky nightdresses hanging in the cabinet, along with many other bunches of clothing. There was everything I could desire. Someone had even left a small tray of food by the bedside, which I devoured hungrily. Climbing into the bed, I felt tears prick my eyes. It was _warm._ Comfortable. I laid my head back with a relief I hadn't felt since…since Petrel had told us those stories. I hadn't dreamed of Aro, or any vampires since, but my nights had been far from easy.

I was just dropping off to sleep, when a crash caused me to leap up from the bed.

"Who's there?" I called out fearfully. My heartbeat was audible as I searched the room, finding nothing. Then, suddenly, I saw a picture frame lying facedown on the carpet. It had fallen from a dangling nail in the wall, and was beyond my power to fix. I lifted it up slowly—it was very heavy—and lit a candle to see it better.

I gasped. It was the same image carved into the doorknob, only much more real and life-like. I could see the woman's face clearly this time. She looked…terrified. Heartbroken. Her fair hair spilled over her shoulders in a strong contrast to the dark, sinister background of the painting, and the heart she held in her hands bled onto her dress. It was only then, moving the candle beyond the sobbing figure, I saw the man standing behind her. A black cloak covered his face, but the chain around his neck was vaguely familiar.

_Where have I seen that? _I tried to remember, but exhaustion was fast creeping over me. I sank to the floor next to the picture. The last thing I remember seeing was a tear on the woman's face, and the pathetic desperation with which she tried to stay alive…


	14. Chapter 13: Revelations

**Chapter 13: Revelations **

"_We are the lucky ones; we shine like a thousand suns _

_When all of the color runs together _

_I'll keep you company, in one glorious harmony _

_Waltzing with destiny forever…" _

_(Hayley Westenra; "Dark Waltz") _

Three days passed, and there was no sign of Aro. I didn't see his brothers either, which was a great relief. Caius had murder in his eyes every time he looked at me, and I hadn't forgotten the first time I'd run into the other brother in the hallway. He didn't seem to hear my stifled scream; his eyes stared through me as if I were merely a ghost. He drifted around a corner and out of sight before I had the courage to breathe again. I couldn't think of those eyes, even now, without shuddering. It was as if someone…somehow…had sucked the life from his face, leaving it sallow and bloodless. He might as well have had empty sockets for all the expression that was in his eyes.

I brushed my hair slowly late one afternoon, sitting on the bed. It had been terrifying…and sad. I knew vampires lived forever, but this man was hiding something. "Immortality can't be _that_ bad," I said aloud.

"Oh, really? And who told you that?"

I jumped off the bed, running to hug the slim vampire standing in the doorway. Celeste wrapped her cold arms around me, then kissed my forehead. "Good morning!"

"You mean good _evening,_" I said, confused.

"Not for a vampire. We're always more active at night here."

"But…Celeste, we're _underground." _

She shrugged. "Hard to shake the habits of a lifetime. The Volturi didn't always live here, you know."

"How do you know everything if you've only been here five years?"

She blushed. "Demetri told me."

"And how old is he?"

"Goodness, Geneve. He wouldn't even tell _me_ that. He and the rest of the guard have lived with Aro and his brothers for quite some time, although I think Santiago wins out by a few hundred years."

"Santiago? Who's Santiago?"

Celeste laughed, curling up on my bed. "There are a lot of members of the Volturi you don't know about, dear," she said patiently. "And there are some _I'm_ not even allowed to mention. But it's alright to tell you about Santiago and his mate, I suppose. He and Alessandra met Aro and Caius while they were vanquishing a small Spanish coven in Madrid, which of course was called another name back then. Instead of resenting Aro, Santiago apparently had a deep respect for him, and vowed to serve him in his conquest of Europe. Alessandra came with him."

Celeste ran her finger idly across the silken sheets. "According to Demetri, Santiago has always been Aro's favorite guard, and is also a close friend of his. You may see him from time to time."

She breathed out softly, looking around my room with interest, I wished she would continue; I was fascinated by this story from Aro's past. It helped me understand him better. Understand the face behind the cold, smiling mask. "And the others?"

"Well, there's Chelsea, who is Marcus' personal guard, but even Demetri doesn't know what her talent is, if she _has_ any." Celeste scoffed. "Scheming, little brat. She's even worse than Jane, if that's possible."

"What is it Jane does, exactly?" I asked.

Celeste looked at me, and her hand reached out to squeeze mine. "I hope you never find out, my dear," she whispered. She let those words sink in, and then suddenly pulled me towards her. "Lift up your arms," she demanded.

"What?"

"You heard me."

I did what she asked, bewildered, until I saw her staring at the deep bruises lining my skin like a murderer's handprint. They _were_ handprints, in fact. Celeste's lips tightened as she fitted her palm to the imprinted marks. "This wasn't Demetri," she said softly.

I couldn't look at her. Why did she have to bring up what I was trying so hard to forget? "No."

She pressed my arms softly. "Does that hurt?"

"Of course not. Just an accident, that's all."

Celeste leaned in closer, her breath on my face. "Geneve, I never asked you this, but what exactly happened yesterday with—"

My white face stared past her shoulder, and she whirled around, nearly crashing into her master.

"My lord!" she gasped. "I—I'm sorry! I didn't—"

Aro placed a finger on her lips. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love. May I speak with your friend for a moment?"

Celeste started. "How did you know we were friends?"

He laughed. "The same way I know Demetri's been spilling all our secrets. It's my business to know."

Celeste frowned defiantly. "He never said anything about—"

"I know," he interrupted, soothing her. "Now be a good girl and leave us alone."

Celeste nodded, slipping past him nervously. At the last second, she turned around. _I'm sorry,_ her eyes pleaded. Her blonde curls whipped around the corner and she was gone.

Aro closed the door behind her. "Funny little thing," he laughed softly. "Poor Heidi was in such a rage when Demetri asked my permission to bring her here. It was indeed amusing."

I said nothing. I pulled down my sleeves slowly to cover the bruises Celeste had revealed.

Aro seated himself gracefully in a chair across from where I stood. His long white fingers caressed the wood gently, as if he were fondling a young child. After a moment, he chuckled to himself at something, and then turned his full, crimson gaze on me.

Nothing happened. The silence was torturing me. I said the first words that came to my mind. "Can—can I get you anything?"

His red lips curved slightly. "I doubt that. I'm not very thirsty at present, I'm afraid."

I swallowed, but my throat was too dry. "Can I get some water?" I asked hoarsely.

"Of course. It _is_ your room, Geneve."

The words slipped from his tongue like music, and I fumbled with the water glass. _Gosh,_ _I love it when he says my name. _He made it sound foreign…exotic. As if the person who bore it was someone entirely different, and much more beautiful.

Aro waited patiently until I was finished, then spoke. "I don't suppose you know why I'm here?"

"No."

"Do sit down, Geneve. You're making me nervous just standing there."

I sank into a chair.

"I'm here for two reasons. The first is to humbly extend my apologies for what happened several days ago."

I was stunned. "What?"

"You know of what I speak, my dear. Let's not open fresh wounds by mentioning it further. I only ask that you accept my apology, and forgive my actions."

I looked at him suspiciously. He reclined in the chair just the same as before, only this time he was not smiling. His eyes were deep and sincere as they waited for my reply. "Geneve?"

"First," I began slowly. "Tell me _why._ Why did you torture me like that? Am I to be the brunt of your rage and disapproval? Am I here merely as some toy for you and your followers to play with?" The words rushed out of me, releasing all the hurt festering inside. "If so, then I wish you would make up your mind. Let me go home to my family, or destroy me. It will make everyone happier, either way."

Aro's face was almost sympathetic. "But you know I can't let you go, Geneve, nor do I _wish_ to kill you."

"What then?" I burst out, frustrated.

Aro sighed, rising to his feet. He was by my side before I had time to blink, and I cringed instinctively. Aro held my arm gently.

"Come now," he whispered. "I won't hurt you."

"Prove it," I said bitterly.

His teeth sparkled in the dimming light. Never taking his eyes off me, he slowly pushed up both sleeves off my dress, revealing what Celeste had discovered. Slowly, ever so slowly, he placed each hand on the bruises, matching his fingers to every mark. I watched in a sort of numb astonishment mingled with fear. What good were a vampire's promises? What good were—

My thoughts scattered abruptly as Aro leaned in towards my face. His eyes were brighter than ever—glowing translucent and beautiful—and he smiled sweetly at me.

"Will you forgive me, Geneve?" he whispered. "Please…?"

A word I thought would never slip past this man's lips. But should I believe him? Should…I… _God, he smells good. _Dark spice tempted my mouth with rich, lascivious flavors. I watched his tongue move slightly behind his teeth. Baiting me. _Wanting _me to taste…to feel…

I closed my eyes tightly. _Stop it! Just stop it! _"Yes."

Aro moved away, smiling happily. "Ah, Geneve. You are an angel."

_Stop talking,_ I wanted to say. My chest felt tight, devoid of air.

"I do want to make it up to you," he was saying. I could never get used to his mood changes. The Aro I saw now made me forget the raging demon I'd seen that terrible day. He fingered a necklace he wore absently. The gold glimmered against his pale fingers.

I was about to plead fatigue and ask to retire to my bed, when Aro's head turned towards the door, and he held a hand out, as if to silence someone. "Shh! Listen!"

My human hearing was no match for his. I heard nothing. After a moment, he walked out the door, gesturing for me to follow him. I was too afraid to disobey. His footsteps echoed in the blackened stillness, leading us down a familiar path to the throne room. The doors opened, and I gasped softly upon entering.

"What is it?" Aro asked me.

"I've never been here…at night," I said in awe. The room looked as if it were lit by a thousand candles. There were several candelabra, but looking closer, I saw that the source of light was mostly from electric, circular shapes that glistened red and gold in the darkness. They lined the walls in myriads of swirling color, and I wondered how I had missed them before. _They must only be used at night._

I turned, intending to ask Aro for details, when a figure entered the room from the far right. Yet another thing I had missed. It was followed by a taller, larger figure to my left. How many entrances were _in_ this place? I squinted, the light still too dim for my eyes.

A woman stepped from the shadows—her form as lithe and graceful as any of the vampires I'd met so far. Thick black hair rippled over her cinnamon-colored shoulders and covered the lower half of her back. Her dark eyes were unsurprised to see me, and I was pleased to find their ruby color more inquisitive than menacing, for once.

"Alessandra!" Aro called out cheerfully. _"Come siete questa sera bella?_ I thought I heard your lovely voice. Welcome home again, my sweet."

The taller figure walked closer, placing his arm around the woman's waist.

"And you too, Santiago. _Sempre un placere, mio caro amico_."

The vampire nodded. _"Ma padrone." _

Unconsciously, I edged away a few inches. Felix was nothing to the giant that stood in front of me. Nothing. I was grateful the sleeves of his black shirt covered what must have been a frightening amount of muscle. He, too, seemed apathetic regarding my presence. Years with Aro had trained them both well, I suppose.

At a signal from Aro, Alessandra stepped into the light, and made a low bow before the two of us. A soft, rich music started up from seemingly nowhere. I glanced at Santiago, but he was sitting quietly on the steps leading up to the Volturi's thrones, watching everything Alessandra did. The dress she wore was a simple bronze color with bright red searing along the edges, layered to flow along her bare ankles and legs in a fiery rush. It moved with her as she began to dance, occasionally brushing past her mate to steal a kiss or two.

"_Bailando, bailando _

_Nos estamos bailando _

_Nos estamos bailando hacia la muerte _

_Cayendo, cayendo _

_Nos estamos cayendo _

_La belieza silenciosa, suave y rojo…" _

The words were magic, and her voice gave them life. I couldn't understand the language, but I guessed it to be Italian from the flowing, poetic sound. Alessandra spun by me—fiery eyes dancing—and her mouth spread into an alluring smile.

"_Venir, oh venir. Venga en y únase a nosotros. _

_Únase a nosotros en nuestra danza de miedo. _

_Sangrar con placer en su tiempo libre. _

_Nadie te condenará aquí."_

I turned to Aro, standing behind me. "What is she saying?"

He smiled. "It is an old ballad of our kind. Alessandra has merely translated it into her native Spanish. The original was in Latin, I believe."

The music rose and fell with Alessandra; sparkling like the lights that reflected off of her dark hair. "It's beautiful."

Aro looked at me, tilting his head to one side. I swayed obliviously to the music, noticing nothing until I saw him standing with his hand held out towards me. My heart nearly stopped.

"Come," he said invitingly. His red eyes gleamed.

I moved without feeling any sensation in my legs. I was suspended on air—placing my hand in his and letting his other arm pull me closer. My hand brushed up his sleeve to rest on his shoulder, and we stared at each other in silence.

"Shall we?" he whispered.

His gentle hands pulled me forward, and we were swirling with the darkness. We were _of_ the darkness. Everything in the room seemed electrified—from the flickering, ruby light to his cold hand on the small of my back. I had never felt so close to him, although I kept my eyes lowered, hiding the blush on my face. He'd promised "to make it up to me." Was this it? How did he know such an action would send my heart thrumming in my chest, and my veins pulsating under his touch? Maybe he had been lying. Maybe he _could_ read my mind after all…

I closed my eyes, trying to relax my body.

"There was one other thing I forgot to mention," Aro said suddenly.

I opened my eyes. "Yes?"

"There were two reasons I came to see you," he said politely, guiding me past Santiago's massive form in a whirl of motion. "The first required something of _you,_ Geneve. Now I ask that you give me leniency again, and do me yet another favor."

I felt my body tensing even as he spoke. "Which is…?"

The music changed into a faster rhythm, and a quick spin caught me by surprise. I fell slightly against Aro. He said nothing; only leaned in until his lips brushed my ear.

"All I ask, my dear, is that you set my mind at rest, and give me full access to your thoughts."

"But…but I don't—" I began pleadingly.

Aro touched my lips, as with Celeste earlier. "Shhh…I understand you don't fully comprehend your abilities. Apparently, neither do I. I have never failed to read a mind before, Geneve, whether mortal _or_ vampire. So why not learn together? If you promise to assist me with my request, I will do my best to ensure you are safe here."

My lips burned when his hand moved away. We weren't dancing anymore, and I noticed that Santiago and his beautiful mate had left unnoticed. Only their master stood before me, waiting patiently for my reply.

I twisted my hands together. "And if I can't let you read my thoughts?""

Aro smiled brightly. "Then I cannot fulfill my end of the bargain, can I, dearest one?"

I shivered. "I'll do what you ask, then. Or at least try."

"Excellent!" The frightening, glazed expression disappeared from Aro's face, and he held his arm out to me gallantly. "Now, as I seem to have misplaced my guard, let me escort you back to your bedroom. You must be exhausted."

I was tired, now that he mentioned it. Everything after the point where I'd followed Aro down the hall seemed to be a dream. Looking sideways at his intimidating, regal face, I couldn't believe that a moment ago, I had been so close to this man.

My eyes closed now and then from weariness. Once, when I opened them, I caught Aro looking at me, but he merely smiled and turned away. "Ah! Here we are," he said, stopping me. My door opened before me, and I was vaguely aware of Aro pushing me inside with a gentle prod.

"Tell me, Geneve," he said sweetly, as if we were old friends. "Are you quite comfortable here? Has Demetri brought you enough food? I'm afraid we forget sometimes, as vampires, just how often you humans eat."

His pale face blurred in front of me. "C—Celeste brings it," I stammered. "I didn't…well…"

"Trust Demetri? That's quite all right, love. He's a sly one." Aro laughed to himself. "But it's really Felix you should watch out for."

"Very well…" I was dead tired, but I didn't want to fall asleep in front of him. My vision clouded a second time, and I longed to give in. I felt something cold touch my forehead, and I sighed.

"Geneve," Aro whispered. "If you need rest, then simply say so. I will leave."

_No. Don't,_ I thought. I had a sudden vision of myself curled up in Aro's lap, my red curls brushing against his cheek, and his honeyed laugh as he quietly sang me to sleep…

"No…" I said, trying to smile. "I'm alright."

Aro's teeth sparkled. _"Molto bene, allora,"_ he said, turning away. I stood in the doorway, watching him, when I saw him look back over his shoulder. A soft regret was in his eyes, and he reached out once, trailing his fingers down my face.

"You are so like her," he whispered.

* * *

* Alessandra's Song: Written/translated by the author, Petals Open to the Moon. :) **(I love this song so much, and am trying to write music for it. I write a lot of poetry also-see my dA site-and this particular poem/ballad is echoing in my head everytime I work on this story. Enjoy. ^^) **

"Dancing, dancing. We are dancing

We are dancing into death

Falling, falling. We are falling

Silent beauty; soft and red

Come, oh, come. Come in and join us

Join us in our dance of fear

Bleed with pleasure at your leisure

No one can condemn you here."


	15. Chapter 14: An Innocent Girl

**Sorry I've taken so long, my dears. It's through no fault of my own, let me assure you. But…the chapter is long and delicious, and there's plenty of Aro for you! ****Please review! You know I want to hear what you have to say! **

**Chapter 14: An Innocent Girl **

"_What is this strange obs__ession_

_That's tearing me apart?_

_This strange, deranged expression_

_Of what's in my heart…" _

_(Jekyll & Hyde; Broadway production)_

I slumped against the wall, worn-out. "I can't do this anymore."

"Get up, Geneve."

"You always ask the impossible."

"Our kind _is_ the impossible. Now get up."

I obeyed, but only after leveling a dark glare at him.

He laughed merrily. "Don't sulk, my dear! You're too pretty for that. Let's resume, shall we?"

Reluctantly, I placed my hand once more in his. He no longer bent over my hand at this point, but stared me full in the face with his vivid, red eyes, as if to draw secrets out of me with his gaze. But nothing happened, and I sighed. "You see? I cannot help you."

Aro tilted his head thoughtfully, and then spoke. "You never did answer my question, Geneve."

"What question?"

"What your thoughts were, _precisely, _when I attempted to read your mind previously."

"I'm thinking every second of every day," I said wearily. "Do you expect me to pinpoint a moment I can scarcely remember?"

"Oh, you remember it. I know you do. You just aren't thinking hard enough."

_Because I can't. Because you ask too much of me,_ I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see his own brilliant stare. _Please try,_ I begged myself mentally. _For Mom. For Celeste. For…for _him.

"…_can ensure that you're safe here." _

And if I didn't…

"_Then I cannot fulfill my end of the bargain, can I…?" _

But he _had _to fulfill it. I wouldn't survive one day if he didn't. I was too afraid. I didn't dare leave my room, unless Celeste was with me as a protector. I lived in fear.

_I don't want to be afraid anymore,_ I thought, holding back tears. And then, like a flash of intuition, my mind brought me back to that frozen moment when I thought Aro was going to kill me. I felt his grip about my throat, and the peaceful look of death in his eyes. He would show no mercy; give no second chances. I knew this—knew I was going to lose all I held dear—

Which was why I brought it all back, I realized. The memories and sensations that flooded my mind were not of _fear,_ but…

_Mom. _My bruised knee when I fell down the stairs at the age of eight, and her lips kissing the tender skin softly. _"I love you, sweetheart," she said._ The shadows that slithered up my bedroom wall, sending my young heart pumping madly, until a soft hand reached under the covers, and a voice breathed into my dreams: "It's alright, Jenny. I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of."

That was it. The absence of fear, which sheltered me from penetration of the mind while still terrorizing my every movement. That which held me back was also my strongest protection.

My mom stared at me, her blue eyes serious. _You have to give your trust at some point, Jenny. No matter how much it hurts. Everything will be alright, because…"_

"…There's nothing to be afraid of," I whispered. I looked at Aro—his dark lashes brushing his cheek as he concentrated; the soft, relaxed smile on his lips—and breathed a sigh of relief. I had done it.

After an eternity of gentle silence, he opened his eyes. "Ah…" he whispered softly. A smile lit up his face and I found myself smiling also. "Well done, _piccola," _he said.

"Thank you."

"I know you are tired, but…I _am_ curious," he said, his smile lifting crookedly.

"It was fear," I answered simply. "I was afraid, that's all."

"Fascinating," he whispered. His blood-red eyes sparkled with excitement. "An unconscious barrier, and you are only human. I have never encountered such a thing."

I tried to move my hand from his firm grasp. It was uncomfortable—this close proximity of thought.

Aro laughed at my efforts. "You do realize that this will become a regular routine?" he said. "I will not leave you alone after this."

"Great," I said sarcastically, and he chuckled again.

"Ah, Geneve…you are so young, so innocent. It's been such a bore the last few hundred years to hear my brother's thoughts—we can grow quite lethargic here, in our solitude. But you! Your thoughts are an _immense_ pleasure. So vibrant and exciting."

He smiled up at me, and I couldn't help smiling with him. He was so beautiful when he was happy—very different from the masked cheerfulness he usually exhibited.

"I'm glad I can please you," I said, again pulling at my hand. It came free this time, and I stepped away, relieved to be truly alone once more.

Aro kept smiling. "Such a strange gift," he mused. "Did you know, Geneve, that before I was changed into a vampire, I had no gifts whatsoever?"

I looked up, surprised. "None at all?"

"No, unless you count the usual human intelligence and sense of stupidity. No offense, my dear," he said sweetly.

I didn't care. "How old were you?"

"Does it matter? I was young enough to worship the demon who turned me, but old enough to destroy him once he got in my way." Aro laughed, a chilling sound. "It was then I discovered I could see into another's soul—read every mind that I touched—and there were others like me. Hence the wonderful display of talent you see here. Jane, Alec, Marcus…they are all here to serve and help me keep our world under control." Aro pressed his pale hands together. "And you, Geneve? Will you join us as well?"

The question caught me off-guard. "What?"

"You show incredible potential, even now. Imagine your powers as an immortal!"

I didn't like the look on Aro's face. I'd felt comfortable with him earlier, but now the hungry glare in his eyes frightened me.

"I—I don't know what you mean. What are you asking?"

"To become a vampire, my dear. To be accepted into our loving, little family."

Bile rose in my throat, and a strong sense of horror possessed me. I struggled to look him in the eye. "No," I said firmly.

He stepped back; a little surprised, perhaps, but the strange fanaticism remained. "I see," he said calmly. "Well, it is your choice after all, Geneve. No one is forcing you."

Aro gestured in front of him politely, and I followed him out of the large music room where we'd been conducting this little session. Our conversation was over.

We walked down the dark hallways together, not speaking at first. His pace slowed down to match mine. I was careful not to brush against his hand or anything, knowing how relaxed I was starting to feel around him. The corners of his mouth lifted each time I edged away, and I knew he saw my intention.

"I know I ask a great many favors, Geneve," he said presently. "Your patience, however, does you great credit, even for a human." He chuckled, passing his finger casually through a flame on an iron-wrought candelabrum.

"Why do you keep fire here?" I asked, wild with curiosity. "I mean, aren't…your kind…sensitive to it?"

He looked at me. "Of course, but we're not _impervious_ to it. Keep in mind, Geneve, that there is only one real way to destroy a vampire: tearing the body to pieces _first, _and then burning it until it's nothing but ash. Only a _vampire_ has the strength to kill another vampire. There _is _the exception of our enemy, the werewolf, but we don't worry about them for the most part."

"Why?"

"They don't exist with the same numbers of our kind, for one thing. And I wouldn't mention them to my brother, Caius, either." Aro laughed with scorn. "The old fool."

"I've never spoken to him," I whispered.

Aro smiled comfortingly at me. "No one gets along with Caius, my dear. Even I have to force some common sense into him at times."

We were standing in front of my room, and the door was shut and locked, as usual. Not that a lock did anything against a vampire, but…I felt safer with it rather than without.

I fumbled for my key, placing it carefully in the lock. I noticed again, with startling clarity, the tragic picture carved into the doorknob. I looked back at Aro, relieved to see he was still there.

"Another question, my dear?" he asked, reading my face.

"This picture…" I said slowly. "There's one like it in my room, only it's a painting, and there's a man standing behind the woman. "

Aro stepped closer, touching the image with his fingers. After a moment, he moved away swiftly, as if something had burned him. "You don't know who this is?" he asked.

"No."

"Good. I see Celeste has the sense of keep her mouth shut at _some_ point." He paused. "That woman is my sister, Geneve."

"Your—?"

"Her name is Didyme. She was born around the same time I was—three thousand years ago."

I tried not to feel shocked. I'd heard this from Celeste already.

Aro gestured towards me. "That dress you're wearing, and all the others? They were Didyme's. The room is hers, as well."

I was lost for words. "I—I don't know what to say," I stammered. "These must be very special to you."

He shrugged. "You needed clothing, my dear. Besides, they suit you." He gazed off absently in the distance, his eyes misting over. "You are very like her, you know."

"Really?" I smiled. "Do I look like her?"

"Heavens, no. She was taller than you, for one thing; almost past my shoulder. She wasn't as thin, and her hair was the color of sunlight, falling past her waist." Aro's mind was only partly with me…in the past. "No," he said quietly. "You look nothing like her. Your personalities however, are unmistakably similar."

"When can I meet her?" I asked excitedly.

He stared at me. "Who?"

"Your sister."

Blackness clouded Aro's eyes, hardening them to onyx. "She's dead," he said flatly.

"Oh."

I was surprised by the harshness of his answer. He'd spoken of her fondly, without resentment, as if they had conversed just yesterday. But his face was blank now—the lips white and bloodless.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

I waited a moment, then opened the door to my room and went inside. I didn't bother to look behind me. I knew he was there.

"Are you angry with me?" he asked softly.

"Of course not."

"I should have foreseen you wouldn't know of Didyme's death. It isn't your fault."

"It's alright."

I felt his sweet breath caress my cheek, and my heart pounded madly. "Are you very afraid of me, Geneve?"

"You know better than to ask that." My voice trembled. "You can find out for yourself now."

"True." He chuckled under his breath. His hand reached past my shoulder, curling under mine in a gentle grip. I could've cursed myself for being so stupid. I couldn't protect my thoughts—not with _him_ standing behind me, his icy body pressing lightly against my back…his scent shredding my self-control. Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn't do anything. I was powerless.

_Take them, then!_ I thought angrily. _Take _all _my thoughts! See if I care! _

I heard a soft sigh break from Aro's lips. "Why don't you trust me, my dear?" he whispered in the silence.

My heart stood still. It was true, then. My barrier was gone…weaker each time he broke it.

"Why don't you trust me?" he repeated.

I couldn't speak yet. _Because…because I'm afraid. _

"You lied, then, didn't you?"

_Yes. _

"Why?"

_Maybe to convince myself. _

"But you failed, obviously."

I turned around, and found myself staring into his eyes. They were darker than ever—glowing radiantly in the darkness. He came so close, I could smell his breath on my face. It was intoxicating. I shuddered as his fingers trailed lightly up my arm.

"There is something else, isn't there?" he whispered. "Something else you're hiding from me?"

"There's nothing," I blurted out, finding my voice. But I wasn't thinking clearly—my mind was a confused blur of emotion, with thoughts rushing about incoherently, all ending up at the same place. I wanted so badly to lift my arms; pull his face towards me and memorize every beautiful, perfect, significant detail. _But I don't want him in my head…I don't want him to listen… _

Aro hadn't moved since I'd spoken.

"I'm tired," I said suddenly. "I want to rest now."

"Geneve…"

"Please," I interrupted. "Please leave me alone."

His fingers—cold and cruel—jerked up my chin. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but suddenly his head turned towards the door; listening, as he had done before. He turned back to me, red eyes subdued, and lifted my hand. His lips brushed once across my fingers, and a jolt of electricity shook me—burning its way down to my heart.

"Good night, then, _piccola," _he said, disappearing out the doorway.

I hardly had time to collect my emotions before the door creaked again, and Celeste bounded into the room. "Hey!" she said. She was bubbling with positive energy, as usual.

I forced down the tears, wishing I could just let them out and be done with it. I sighed, wishing for the first time that she wasn't there.

"Are you ok, honey?"

I smiled unwillingly at her, and listened as she burst into a flood of conversation and gossip. Apparently Jane had thrown a tizzy fit at Felix earlier, and Celeste just couldn't get over "the look on the little brat's face." What it was about, she didn't know, but it was absolutely hilarious.

"And you, Geneve?" she asked, turning to me finally. "What have you done with yourself today?"

"Nothing much," I lied. "It was a day like most."

Celeste tilted her head at me. "Aro's been talking to you, hasn't he?

I froze. "How would you know?"

"You get really quiet and distracted, and you don't talk to me at all. And then there's that funny, strained look about your face, as if you're in pain or something."

"He was just curious about the mind-reading, as usual."

She sighed heavily. "Doesn't he ever leave you alone?"

"Eventually." _But only because I asked him to. _

Celeste shrugged her lovely shoulders. "I don't know why you let him bother you so much. The way you stress out about it…" She laughed. "…You'd think you were in love with him, or something." She laughed harder, falling back on the satin covers with her arms spread out.

"I am," I whispered.

Celeste rolled over, her eyes wide with shock, and I realized I'd spoken aloud.

"What?" When I didn't respond, she reached for my hand. "This isn't the best time for jokes, Geneve. Let's be serious."

_Who cares if she knows? It's too late. _"I _am_ serious."

She knelt beside me, her eyes pleading. "Honestly, honey. You can tell me if you're teasing."

"I'm _not,_ Celeste! Don't you _get _it?"

I stood up, wrenching away from her. "Oh, you can stare all you want, and doom me to an early death, but you can't change what I feel. When I say I love him, I am being _completely _serious. It's a depressing and pathetic fact…but it's _true!" _

She sat still during my outburst, her legs folded under her. It was a few moments before she spoke. "How did this happen?"

"I don't know! That's what's so infuriating about it! I'm obsessed with a diabolical, three-thousand-year old vampire, and _I don't even flippin' know why!" _

I sat down in a chair, covering my wet face with shame. I half-expected to feel Celeste's gentle hand on my shoulder, but nothing happened for the longest time. My broken sobbing was the only sound in the awful stillness.

"Geneve…" I didn't look up, but I could hear the timidity in her voice. "Does he—does Aro _know_ you feel this way?"

I hesitated. "I don't know. I'm not sure."

"I see."

I looked up at her, but she was facing away from me, towards the door.

"Celeste, what do I do?"

She turned around, and her eyes bored into me. "Don't let him find out."

"Why?" Dread crept up my spine.

"I don't want to frighten you, Geneve, but…don't you see that he would only use you?"

"Use me?"

"Everyone in the Volturi has a purpose, even you. It's been this way for hundreds of years."

"What about you?" I asked.

"I'm here by Aro's good will and Demetri's wish," she said gently. "If either of them no longer desire my presence, then…"

I shuddered. "That's horrible."

"That's our life here, Geneve." She smiled sadly. "Do you see now what I'm trying to say? You cannot afford to confront Aro, or any of his servants. Even Marcus could become an enemy."

Her face was fading in the darkness, and I stood up, reaching for a match in my pocket. My fingers shook as I lit a candle by the dresser. A scent rose from the flame, or maybe it was from my own body—warm, sweet, and sensual. It danced mockingly under my gaze, flaring red, and I turned away. Celeste watched me, her face tight with worry, and I walked over to her, wrapping my arms tightly about her shoulders.

"I understand," I whispered.

She stroked my back. "Then you'll stay away from him?"

"No."

"But—"

"Could _you_ stay away from Demetri? Act like he didn't exist?"

Celeste stared at me. She obviously hadn't seen things from _that _perspective. "No. I couldn't."

"You see? I'll try, Celeste, but… I mean, it's not like _he_ feels the same way." I laughed weakly. "Imagine how ridiculous _that_ would be. I doubt he has ever loved."

Celeste glanced at me quickly, but said nothing.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, I suppose," I said. "Thank you for helping me. I needed it."

She hugged me again. "Just don't forget how serious this is," she whispered in my ear. "I'm very worried about you, Geneve."

I shivered. "That makes two of us, doesn't it?"

She looked at me, brushing a tear from my face, and the doubt in her eyes filled me with more fear and misery than I cared to admit.


	16. Chapter 15: A Demon's Heart

**Sometimes, dear readers, it feels as if I'm not in control of this story anymore. Someone else has taken over, and is shaping his own personality with dark pleasure. **

**But, oh my gosh, **_**thank you**_** for putting up with me! … I've re-written this chapter five times before finally throwing it up on fanfic for your enjoyment. **

**Chapter 15: A Demon's Heart **

"_She was darkness and he was darkness and _

_there had never been anything before __this time; _

_only darkness and his lips__ upon her." _

_(Margaret Mitchell)_

_What have I done? _

I was only beginning to realize why humans rarely survived among the Volturi. It wasn't just the threat of death. It wasn't just the fear that you would become food for their thirst. It was a fight; a never-ending battle between self-control and insanity. How long had I been here? I wondered. A month? Two? But then, Time itself was becoming rather ambiguous. I felt myself being dragged into a sort of surreal existence, where tangible things ceased to be real. The Volturi were not _of _the world—they were _above _the world. They murdered and ruled at their own pleasure, barely noticing each life as it was extinguished.

And Aro?

Pain stabbed my heart whenever I thought of the Volturi's leader. He had changed my life. Literally. The world as I knew it had melted into a memory, stifling the sunlight with cold fingers. It sucked the healthy glow from my skin, creating a faint pallor that was only revitalized in _his _presence. I was not myself with him, but then…who _was_ I?

I sighed, wincing as I touched a yellow bruise on my arm. Everything was out of my control entirely. He was evil. He was manipulative. He was like a wild blackness encroaching on my horizon: changing, powerful, and viciously unpredictable.

But… I loved him.

* * *

I leaned against the bed. A strand of red hung in my face, and I brushed it away with my hand.

"Who is Forsytha?" I asked softly.

Celeste sat in my room with me, trying to ease my boredom. Aro had ordered I be confined to my room for several days, due to a visitor. How could he explain my presence, Celeste told me, if I was wandering about the corridors like a tempting snack?

"Just a friend of Aro's. She lives in England now, but I think she's Mycenaean by birth." Celeste scoffed. "A fine time for her to visit, with _you_ here. She's crazy."

"Mycenaean?"

"Greek. She's only a few decades younger than Aro."

"What do you mean by 'crazy'?"

"Well, that's what Demetri says. She never comes without making some kind of scene."

I glanced at Celeste uneasily. "Will she be here long?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, honey. She'll be gone by tomorrow."

"Thank God," I said, sighing with relief. It was bad enough being banned from Aro's presence without the added fear of running across an outsider.

As if she'd heard my thoughts, Celeste spoke. "Do you…" She hesitated. "Do you still…"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Nothing more was said, although I could sense her disapproval.

"Celeste?" I whispered at last.

"Mm?"

"What does _"piccola" _mean?"

"It's an Italian word. I heard it used when Demetri brought me here; usually among parents and their children. I think it means 'dear one' or 'sweetheart.' Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." _Piccola. "Dear one." _He'd called me that twice now. "Celeste?" I said again.

"Yes?"

"I really wish you'd let me wear normal clothes like you do. These dresses Aro gave me… I don't think it's right to wear them."

"Nonsense, Geneve. You look three times prettier than that slut, Heidi."

"But don't you agree with me? I mean, they belonged to his—" I stopped, seeing the bewilderment on Celeste's face. _She doesn't know, _I realized. _Neither does Demetri, or he would have told her. _

"Belonged to whom?" she prodded.

"Nothing. I was thinking of something else. All I meant was that they're much too lovely for me; I'm afraid I'll damage them."

"Why not ask Aro?" she said carelessly. _"I _didn't give them to you."

"Fine. I will."

I slid off the bed, throwing a cloak around my shoulders. It could get very cold and drafty in this place.

She grabbed my arm. "You're not going anywhere, Geneve, remember?"

"Come with me, then. I'm sick of being in here, and I'm sure you are, too."

"But…" Indecision clouded her eyes. I knew she'd been aching to see Demetri for hours. Why not give her a break? She _had _to be tired of sitting with me for so long.

"Well," she said slowly. "If you're _sure _Aro won't mind…"

"I'll only be gone a few minutes. Relax."

I slipped through the door, not checking to see if she agreed. She called after me, her bell-like voice echoing, but I couldn't hear her. I walked alone, hugging myself to keep warm. I'd come to Italy in the summertime, but it felt like winter underground. _How long will they keep me here? _I wondered. I'd lost track of the days by now. Looking back, it seemed that years had passed since I wandered down the plaza at night, chasing after legends in the dark…

I knew the way to the throne room, so I decided to search there first. Aro would be with his guest, I assumed, so I should be safe. The doors were wide open, but when I looked inside, there was no one there. This surprised me. They were _never _left open.

I looked around once or twice, and was turning to leave, when I caught a movement near one of the thrones. Someone was sitting there.

"Hello?" I said softly, coming forward. _Don't be a fool, _my conscience snapped. _Do you want to lose your life? It could be Caius. Or Felix tricking you. _

"He wouldn't dare," I muttered. I kept walking, and stopped a few feet away.

"Hello?"

The figure lifted its head just as a shadow of light struggled through the domed ceiling above us. My throat contracted as I recognized Aro's other brother…Marcus.

I had thought his face frightening before, but now, looking closer, I saw that it was merely a mask of pain and deep suffering. His dark hair waved down his shoulders over a cloak of fur and curling, elaborate designs. He looked like a king. Regal, too, were it not for the aged, heartbroken sorrow on his face.

"Who are you?" he whispered hoarsely. I saw him staring at the clothes I wore, and his face turned deathly pale. "Didyme?"

"No!" I said hastily. "No, you're mistaken." I stepped fully into the light so he could see my face and red hair. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

Relief washed over the vampire's face. After a moment, he rose to his feet. He towered over me. "It's you," he said. "You're the one Caius spoke of."

"Caius?" I winced. "Do I want to know what he said about me?"

Marcus' lips lifted in what could perhaps be called a smile. "I don't think so."

I smiled back. "I'm looking for Aro. Do you know where he is?"

Marcus walked down the steps, watching me closely. "Aro? What could you want with him?"

"I have to ask him something."

"What is it?"

"It's about his sister…" I began hesitantly. Was Marcus ignorant, as well?

"Didyme?" The name lingered on his lips, as if he hadn't finished speaking.

I stared at him. "Do you know who she is?"

There was a long moment before he answered. "Yes," he said, very softly. "I knew her."

I rambled on. "Aro has let me wear her clothing, but I don't think it's respectful to her memory. I'm sure she wouldn't have liked it."

The light strengthened in the room, softening the pain on Marcus' face. He tilted his head, looking into my eyes. "How do you know what she would have liked?"

"I don't. It just doesn't seem right to me."

"What is your name, young one?"

"Geneve."

"Geneve, Aro's sister was very beautiful. Even before she became a vampire. But this beauty also spread to her soul, which is more than can be said for our kind." He touched my cheek once, then pulled away before his cold skin bothered me. "She would not have minded your wearing them."

I listened in amazement. "But… how would you know? What was she to you?"

"She was my wife."

He said the words calmly, without any restraint or emotion. I couldn't meet his eyes. I bowed my head, ashamed of my blunder. How could I have known?

"I'm sorry."

He looked at me kindly. "Don't worry about using her possessions. I would rather you did." He looked around the room with a sigh. "This dreary place could use more souls like you."

I smiled. "Thank you." I turned to go, and then stopped. Marcus watched me.

"Should Aro know I was speaking to you here?"

He looked past me, his eyes far away. "It would be better if he didn't," he said quietly.

"Alright. I won't tell him."

"Tell me what, my dear?" echoed a familiar voice. I whirled around, and felt my heart jerk unsteadily.

Aro stood there, smiling, his long hair shining in the dim light. He was dressed as regally as his brother, but in clothes I'd never seen before. Instead of the customary black cloak and suit, he wore a heavy, rich crimson that a shadowing Alec took from his shoulders before leaving the room. A thinner, knee-length coat blended with the rest of his suit, except for a splash of vivid red beneath the vest. Gold glittered from his chest and a ring on his hand. His suit fit perfectly, showing the lean, graceful build of his body while still keeping a dangerous, edgy appearance. It was not as elaborate as Marcus', and yet he wore it with a grace that would put any royalty to shame.

Seeing him like this, so close, after days of separation was playing havoc with my emotions. I felt like I was seeing him for the first time. His face eclipsed anyone else's in the room, regarding us with a devilish flare in those amiable eyes…

Aro looked at me for a moment, and then noticed his brother standing behind me. "Ah…Marcus!" he called happily. "What a pleasure! How long has it been since we spoke last?"

I looked back at Marcus, and was shocked at the change that had come over his face. He looked at his brother once, then turned and left the room without a word.

The silence that followed weighed on me heavily. I heard Aro come up behind me. He looked in the direction Marcus had gone. "Did he speak to you, Geneve?" he asked curiously.

"No."

"Really? Well then who were you talking to just now?"

"I…I _tried_ to speak to him, but he didn't answer me."

Aro sighed. "How typical. Well, I'm glad you didn't, Geneve, because it is technically forbidden to do so. My brother has had a troubled past, and it would greatly upset me if anyone were bringing up memories for him. _You,_ especially."

Because of Didyme. _"You are so like her," _he'd said. And I'd blundered into Marcus like a fool. "I'll remember that next time. I'm sorry I intruded."

Aro chuckled. "You're not an intrusive sort of person, my dear. Don't worry about it."

I nodded, edging towards the door.

"Oh, one moment, Geneve," he said suddenly. "Come here."

I did so.

Aro smiled at me, gesturing at my cloak. "That color suits you," he said. "It matches your eyes."

I blushed. "Thank you."

He stepped closer. "Have you tried the jewelry in the bureau drawer? The sapphire bracelet was Didyme's favorite. Are you wearing it now? Let me see."

I extended my wrist, swayed by his compliments. Only when his hands closed violently about both wrists did I realize my own stupidity.

"Interesting," he whispered. "You've lied to me again, haven't you?"

His voice was cold and cruel, but it made my skin shiver with pleasure.

"You think you are so clever," he continued. "But I know you better now, my dear."  
My hands were as white as his; the blood-flow slowed by his grip. I had a sudden, terrifying flashback of that day…when I first tasted blood… I faltered, dizzy, where I stood.

"Listen to me," he said, voice smooth as silk. "I don't _want_ you to talking to Marcus. Just because I told you about my sister doesn't mean you can use her name with someone other than myself. Do you understand? Do _not_ speak to him again."

"I promise," I whispered.

Aro released me, and I sped to the door with tears in my eyes. I hadn't seen him in three days, yet I'd already incited his bad humor. I looked back, half-hoping he would call me again, but he said nothing.

Sighing, I turned around and nearly collided with someone twice my height, and eyes that gleamed like two pits of fire.

It was a vampire, of course. She looked just as surprised to see me as I was, and her delicate hand rested on the wood as she surveyed me curiously. She was taller even than Aro, statuesque and graceful in a light fur coat that softened the hard, stony curves of her body. She could've been a member of the Volturi, I thought. There was no feeling in those beautiful eyes.

I saw a diamond flash on her fingers as she lifted them towards my frozen face. "Well, well," she murmured softly. "What have we here?"

Something yanked me backwards, and I felt my arm knock against Aro's. He stepped in front of me, greeting the woman with a smile. "Forsytha! I thought you were speaking to Caius, _mia cara." _

Her teeth flashed in the light. "Yes, but I came to tell you that I will be leaving earlier than planned."

"I'm sorry to hear that. We have enjoyed your company."

She smiled at him again, but I noticed her eyes kept flickering back to me. "Oh, Aro," she said, sighing happily. "You got a surprise for me. How sweet of you. She looks just _appetizing." _

Aro looked down at my shocked face. I pictured the two of them enjoying themselves, hovering over my broken body…

"Geneve is here as my guest," he said, pushing me further behind him. "But if you stay a little longer, I'm sure I can satisfy your appetite."

The beautiful vampire licked her lips. "Oh, no," she said. "I really must be going. But thank you for your offer."

I wished she would stop looking at me. Her eyes reminded me of Aro's, only they were more wild… more crazed. Her auburn hair massed about her face, giving her a strange, hellish appearance. She placed her hands on Aro's shoulders, and kissed his cheek affectionately.

"Good-bye, then, Aro darling," she said. "Maybe I can visit in another decade or so."

"I look forward to it," he said, smiling.

She cast another longing look at me, then left the two of us alone. We stared at each other.

"Thank you," I said.

He laughed. "You're really not that grateful. You thought I would give in to her, didn't you? I could see it in your face."

"So what if I did?" I said angrily. Why did he have to twist everything I said? "It's only became I still don't trust you."

"That's understandable." He touched my cheek and laughed again. "Poor Geneve. What has she done in life to deserve all this? What fate brought her to this terrible place?"

I glared at him, hating his sarcasm.

"But you'd be right," he continued. "Because I am only a monster, my dear." He gently traced the line of my jaw with his finger. "A vicious, bloodthirsty monster."

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered.

"You must trust me."

"I _want _to trust you."

"I know, _piccola, _but how can I keep _your_ trust if you lie to me?"

"I'm sorry. Forgive me."

Aro smiled, his features radiant. "What is there to forgive, my dear?"

His hand cupped the right side of my face, like one would hold a wine glass before drinking. The blood in my skin pulsed wildly under his touch, and I saw his mouth curve into a smile. It was a terrible smile. My mouth felt parched just staring at his glorious, demonic face. He continued to taunt me, cutting my heart with every word.

"Stop," I begged, barely breathing as his scent filled my lungs.

"I don't think I will, sweet one. I am not the only one enjoying myself."

"What do you mean?"

"You are a terrible liar, Geneve. Leave it to those who know how."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" My voice was not my own.

He smiled quietly. "_I_ think you do." His other hand slid up my throat, cradling my blushing face. "Oh, Geneve," he said, sighing. "Could you possibly have chosen worse?"

"I don't… understand..."

"Could you have sunken any lower?" he continued. "Innocent as you are, you must have foreseen this happening. Or did you think you would find affection at the gates of hell? But then, I suppose even demons have hearts. Don't you agree, my dear?"

I was shaking. My whole body was shaking. The tears in my eyes streamed forth, trickling through his fingers. _He knows, _I thought blindly. _He knows. He's known all along… _It echoed in my mind like a disturbing mantra. _Stupid, _stupid_ girl. _

"Would you never have told me?" he said reprovingly. "What if I hadn't read your mind?"

I couldn't speak.

"Why pretend?" he murmured, almost to himself. "It's always inevitable. Do you think we are the beautiful creatures of legend, my dear? That we live only to seduce?" His lips contradicted his words, trailing down my skin. "You should have known better. This is what I am, Geneve. What we all are. Angels without souls."

"I don't care," I said.

"I know you don't. Would I be touching you otherwise?"

His lips caressed my forehead, scorching fire down my cheek until they stopped tantalizingly before my own. "You tease my vanity, love," he mocked softly. "Those tears can't be for _me, _can they?"

I didn't answer, and he laughed at me. His eyes gleamed bright red at my scent, and I saw his tongue move slowly—painfully—along his bottom teeth. The blood pooled into my cheeks, smoldering under my skin like fire. I was closer to him than I'd been in weeks.

His face flashed before me, all fire and darkness and flame, and my lips touched briefly against his.

For a moment, he was frozen beside me. Then his hands were hard, crushing my face, and his lips moved roughly; hurting me, pushing me to the limit. I dug my hands into his silky hair. He did the same with me; pulling relentlessly at the delicate strands. The pain of it made my eyes tear up again. I could've screamed, but his tongue was tasting my mouth, and the air was wrenched from my body. My body bent back 'til I thought it would snap like wood in his arms... It was the most intense physical pleasure I'd ever known, and the danger of the embrace made it even better. I could've died right there, embraced in his violence, and laughed in Death's scowling face.

Then, quite suddenly, the joy was gone.

Pain seared through my skin, twisting and writhing. I staggered backwards, clutching my face. Something burned down my throat and filled my mouth until I choked, tasting salt. My fingers reached out, tracing my skin before finding the source. It was just a cut, I thought blindly. That was all. Only a small cut. Nothing more. But I couldn't see my face… couldn't feel it…

"Oh, God," I gasped. Now my hands were bloody, too. I wanted to scream, to wipe it off. Tears blurred in the gore, falling to the marble floor beneath my feet.

"Oh, God," I repeated, looking up at Aro.

His face, white and ravenous, blurred before my eyes, and I saw the stain on his lips was only a hideous reflection of my own. It was the other way around, I realized. Death was laughing at _me. _


	17. Chapter 16: Frozen

**Chapter 16: Frozen **

"_In my darkest hours, I could not foresee _

_That the tide could turn _

_So fast to this degree…" _

_(Within Temptation) _

I stumbled, dazed, from the throne room. I barely noticed the fresh bruises on my skin, or the tear on my dress sleeve. I was very cold, all of a sudden. A sweet scent surrounded my aching body…my lips…my hair… preventing me from breathing deeply and satisfying my tired lungs. I could still feel those lips on mine… his freezing skin soothing the blush on my face…

And there was the pain. The pain hadn't stopped; not even during the first frozen minutes after Aro's teeth sliced into my skin.

_He didn't mean it, _I thought, covering my face. _It was an accident… _

The worst of it was that I didn't _know _if it was or not. All I knew was that I'd done an incredibly stupid thing in letting him touch me…come so close… I was lucky to be standing here in one piece. I wiped the tears away in shame. He'd torn me up, and I was still weak enough to defend him.

A cold feeling pricked my skin. I looked up. Someone was standing in the shadows, watching me. Two fiery circles leered at me, and my heart rose in my throat. "Who's there?"

A shape detached itself, materializing slowly. "I didn't expect to find you here," a voice said coldly. It was thin and terribly familiar.

"Jane!"

"Where is Aro?"

"He's in the… the throne room."

Her childish lips pursed, deliberating. I took advantage of her silence.

"Please," I begged. "Do you know where Celeste is?"

"Why?" she sneered. "Too afraid to walk by yourself?"

I gestured helplessly, my fingers bloody. Her tiny fists clenched, but her face remained calm.

"That is your own problem. Get out of my way."

She shoved past me, her hand on the door, then whipped her head suddenly in my direction. Her nostrils flared as the _other _scent on my body reached her. Sweeter than the blood, yet so unmistakable. She stared at me, and the phrase "if looks could kill" flitted through my mind. Neither of us moved, and I didn't breathe again until she closed the door behind her in search of her master. Then I was on my feet, sprinting madly down the hallway as if a ghost were after me.

* * *

It was night. Or evening. _What's the difference?_ I thought dully. I was never certain of the time, anyway. I had no clocks or watches. I estimated, mostly, guessing from the different parts of the day when Celeste brought me food.

I pushed away the untouched plate by my bed. It was stale. Sighing, I looked up and met my own reflection in the vanity mirror. I could bear it for only a second, then I tore away, burying my face in my pillow. I'd stopped the bleeding as best I could, but…

I lifted my head. Someone was outside the door.

"Come in."

I saw a flash of blue, and Celeste stood before me. She wore jeans, as usual, and the long sleeves of her blouse partly covered her small, slender hands. Her golden curls were restrained for once, pulled back from her sculpted cheekbones. I watched every emotion as it flickered across her face. Much as she tried to conceal her feelings, I could still hear the "I told you so" on the tip of her tongue. She bent closer, hiding the horror for me in her eyes.

"Oh, please," I whispered "I don't look _that _bad."

Her lips tightened sympathetically. "Of course not, dear. Maybe after a few weeks…" She sighed. "That will leave a scar, I'm afraid."

"What's new? I'm human."

My sarcasm was only half-hearted. My thoughts were growing heavier. I barely had the strength to form them anymore.

"Geneve?"

"What is it?"

"He… he wants to see you. Now."

My mind cleared with stunning force, pouring raw emotion through me. I gazed earnestly into her crimson eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know."

I nodded, trying to control myself. "Where?"

"In his room. Heidi is to take you there."

"His _room?"_

She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, dear. They don't trust me enough to let me accompany you. But Heidi's not that bad. Better than Felix, anyway."

I was barely listening. I was still shocked by her first words. He wanted to see me. Immediately. In his room. My body was suddenly very cold. I could only think of one reason why.

"Geneve?" Celeste shook me. "Come on. She's here."

Heidi waited for us, glowering at me like I was some disgusting insect. She was dressed provocatively, as usual. Her black silk dress barely covered her long legs, and was fastened very low in the back with a red jewel pin. Her boots were also red, laced up to her knees and adding several inches to her height. She wore a gray cloak similar to Demetri's, but it was flippantly pulled back from her shoulders to outline her flawless figure.

"Well?" she demanded. "Is she ready?"

"Yes."

Celeste hugged me tightly, just as she'd done when I'd gone to see Aro in the room with the piano. But this time, the gesture frightened me more than ever. I was wrong. It wasn't the piano I remembered, nor the music. It was a girl terrified into silence, her face masked by a dark substance only fit for a horror movie. It was the man standing over her, pale with lust—the man who in some strange, twisted way she had grown to love...

I gasped before I could catch myself. Celeste looked at me worriedly, but I said nothing. I couldn't look her in the eyes as I turned, following Heidi down the long maze of corridors. Was she still looking after me when I left? Did she realize what I felt was only too obviously my fate?

Heidi walked a few steps ahead, ignoring me. After a few minutes, I had to say something. I couldn't bear the silence any longer.

"Why couldn't Celeste come?" I asked softly.

I didn't expect an answer, but to my surprise, she laughed. "Because she never shuts her mouth, that's why. In five minutes it would be all over the place where Aro's private chambers are. Demetri's withheld _that _much, at least.' Her lips pursed in a pout. She was clearly still furious over the Celeste**/**Demetri situation.

"Oh."

She looked back at me. _"You're _not looking very attractive this evening," she jeered. "What happened to your face?"

I was too preoccupied to answer. We were in a hallway I'd never seen before—far more elaborate and ornate than those leading to my room.

"I suppose it was Felix," she went on carelessly. "Shame I wasn't there. I'm sure, brute that he is, he managed to get a _little _taste." She smiled nastily at me. "Oh, don't look so worried! Everyone here has been drawing straws for you, should Aro change his mind. If you _were _to die, you wouldn't be forgotten. We would have a party in your honor. We would sing praises over your pretty corpse, dear, 'til you were sucked dry."

I stared at her, silent rage boiling inside me.

She laughed again. "You really hate me, don't you? I don't mind. I'm not like that blonde tramp you hang out with. It's the males I'm after."

Her hand reached out suddenly, seizing one of the torches on the wall. She shoved it towards me, almost in my face. "Take that," she said. "It's very dark down here, and I won't catch you if you fall."

I clutched the heavy thing in my hands, waving it aimlessly to find where she'd gone. It _was_ very dark, and I stared ahead at a wall of pure blackness. I caught a flash of Heidi's necklace, far down by my feet. I moved the torch. It was a staircase, slimy with mold and rusted candle-bearers. If she hadn't given me the light, I would have tumbled to my death.

"Hurry up!" her voice snapped from the darkness.

I moved quickly, meeting her at the bottom of the staircase. She was immediately off again, whipping around corners almost too quickly for me to see. I finally turned, and saw her standing by a large door with queer, steel frames nailed into the wood. I rushed over, out of breath.

"This is it," she said abruptly.

The door peaked high above us in an arch, meeting at the keystone with a crest similar to those I'd seen the Volturi wearing. More Gothic designs leaped out at me: the grinning-faced demons etched into the walls, the tarnished extravagance of glinting metal… even a skull etched into the knob of the door. It was beautiful. It was elegant. But it was not for the living.

Heidi seemed to be enjoying my uneasiness. "A place worthy of Dracula, isn't it?" she laughed, opening the door. I didn't see how. She didn't touch the knob. "Watch your step. There's always a few bones littered about the place."

I ignored her, looking past her elbow into the room. I saw a few candles glittering inside, and a brighter, rougher light that probably came from a fire. "Is this where… _all _the Volturi live?"

"That, little girl, is none of your business."

She shoved me inside, snatching the light from my hands before I tripped and fell. I barely had time to stand up before the heavy door swung shut, and I was alone.


	18. Chapter 17: A Glorious Hell

**Chapter 17: A Glorious Hell **

"_For nothing this wide universe I call,_

_Save thou, my rose; in it thou art my all." _

_(Shakespeare; Sonnet 109)_

Darkness swirled around me, and I stepped hesitantly toward the candlelight. "My lord?"

The words sounded strange on my lips.. I closed my eyes, imagining what it would be like to call his name without fear or restraint. But no one replied, and the shadows on the walls mocked me silently. I was definitely alone.

"Why am I here?" I whispered. "What do you want of me?"

I couldn't help noticing that one of the signature features of the room was an ornate bed standing to the far right. It took up a great deal of space on that side, and was covered in lavish crimson, with gold lettering lining the edges. It was very beautiful, very Renaissance, but I couldn't help smiling at the irony. Didn't vampires not sleep? Or was it just more proof of Aro's eccentric affectations?

I ran my finger along the warm, rich silk. Maybe it _did_ have a purpose.

"Good evening, my dear."

I snatched my hand away just in time to see Aro's cloak sweep into the room. He flung it off carelessly, smiling at me. I stammered out a reply, but I barely noticed what I said. He hadn't changed his clothing from when I'd last seen him, and the grace of his movements hit me with familiar force.

"So you're here already?" he chuckled, breaking the silence. "Heidi didn't waste any time."

"I hope I'm not disturbing you—" I began, but he interrupted.

"Don't be silly, my dear. I wouldn't have sent for you if I didn't desire it. Besides…" His eyes glittered wickedly at me in the candlelight. "Your presence will help clear my thoughts. You're like a ray of light in a dismal crypt."

He laughed softly at the analogy of his own bedroom. I thought it was quite enchanting, actually, now that my eyes were more accustomed to the darkness. There was a mysterious elegance about the place—the satin curtains, the oil paintings, the soft Turkish rugs beneath my feet—that stirred my blood and caused heat to rise to my forehead. It was one thing to be taunted by Aro's scent, but now…now it _surrounded _me. I was breathing in centuries that were exhilarating to my body. It was so… _exotic. _He was everywhere in this room; not just standing before me with mocking eyes and lips.

"You like it, I see," he said, watching me.

"Yes. It's very beautiful."

He walked closer, his body swaying. "Even more beautiful than your own room?"

"No, I'm…I'm very grateful for what you've given me."

His eyes were overwhelming. "I can give you more, Geneve. You only have to ask."

Blood spilled into my cheeks. I looked away, trying to ignore the whispers of desire shuddering through my body. As usual, I was clueless as to his meaning. Of course if I'd had _any_ courage, I would've searched those dark eyes of his for an answer. But I didn't. I stared at a painting without interest, dreading the sweetness of his preliminaries.

"Are you tired?" he asked eventually.

"Not yet."

"Pity."

I stared at him, confused, but he was already looking away, towards the firelight. I retreated slightly, my fingers touching the smooth bedpost. It was darker there, as I'd hoped. I didn't want him looking at me too closely. Strange that I should feel guilt over something that wasn't my fault…

"I'm sorry you had to be exposed to Heidi's brashness," he said. He sounded more amused than sorry. "But that friend of yours was out of the question."

I seized the opportunity to defend Celeste. "You really mustn't blame her," I pleaded. "It's true she talks to me a lot, but never anything that she feels I shouldn't hear."

"How would she know what you 'shouldn't hear'?"

"Demetri tells her."

Aro laughed. "And since when is Demetri an authority on the Volturi's secrets? I asked Heidi because she is a vain, selfish immortal who is too clever to jeopardize her place here. I also happen to know that she doesn't particularly like your friend, and slighting someone she hates is the easiest way to make Heidi happy." Aro smiled at me. "And if there's one thing I enjoy doing, Geneve, it's making my little family happy."

I met his dark eyes, a little disturbed by his malice. They were red as fire (I seldom saw him with the hungry, black glare the others often gave me), but he didn't need their visceral effect to look as dangerous and beautifully inhuman as ever.

I took a breath. "Why did you send for me?"

He smiled, pleased I hadn't raised any more fuss. "Ah, yes." He sat down, gesturing. "Sit down."

I sat where I stood in the half-light, on the edge of the bed. It was extremely soft, yielding to my body easily as I crossed my legs together. When I looked up, I saw Aro watching me. His eyes could have been jewels; their brilliant gaze traveling slowly down my face to where I clasped my hands in my lap.

"You tempt my thirst, Geneve," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"You're blushing." A soft smile touched the corners of his mouth.

I looked at him, saying nothing. If I tried _very_ hard, I could almost forget everything I knew about this man—his lust for cruelty, his dangerous, chameleon personality, his collection of ruthless immortals—and put someone else in his place. Someone who would never dream of hurting me. A kindly, Italian guardian who was a little frightening, perhaps, but who never meant to do what he did…

Aro spoke again, and my vision of him shattered. "You are a difficult problem for me, you know." His fingers drummed restlessly on his chair. "I never thought a mortal could irritate me to such an extent, but you've done a marvelous job of it, my dear."

I laughed uneasily, not sure how to respond. "Couldn't that be easily fixed?"

"How so?"

"You _could_ let me go home." Pain shot between my ribs. Why was the idea suddenly so repulsive to me?

Aro's eyes were amused. "Now? When I'm so close to changing your mind?"

I glared at him. "We're not talking about that."

"Oh, forgive me, my dear," he said sweetly, "But it _is_ such a fascinating prospect for me. I never weary of adding treasures to my coven, and you would outshine most of them, I'm sure." He laughed. "We've corrupted you a great deal, haven't we, Geneve?"

My knuckles were white. "Frightened me, yes. Corrupted, no."

"I appreciate your honesty," he said with a sardonic smile. "Tinged as it is with resentment."

"I don't resent you."

He grinned. "Is that another sweet lie of yours?"

I felt frustration boiling up inside of me. I wanted so badly to _talk_ to him—to forgive him for everything—but it was like groping through a dark tunnel. You had no perception of what would happen next; no way to prepare yourself for the next mockery.

"Please," I said miserably. "I don't want to argue with you."

Aro looked at me, his face smooth with guile. "But of course, _piccola," _he said. "Who said that we were arguing?"

I shook my head. I was tired, suddenly. Tired and unhappy.

"I'm sorry" he said gently.

He was slipping back into his other mask; the gentle, kind Aro that I sometimes felt like I'd dreamed up from nowhere. Oh, when would I tear them all away? I thought despairingly. Peel off every cursed face of his and look at the true soul underneath. If he _had_ a soul…

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"Tell me what you're thinking, Geneve."

"Nothing."

His red eyes pierced through me. _Don't lie, _they seemed to say.

I couldn't help it. My hand went involuntarily to my face, touching the swollen, pinkish line that disfigured my mouth and chin.

"Ah…" Aro rose slowly, a formidable shape in the darkness. My heart trembled as he reached out a long, pale hand. "Come here."

I did so, the firelight dancing between us. Aro's smile was sweet and gentle, but his lips curled back in a way that made me shudder instinctively. He tilted his head in the way peculiar to him. "Do you love me, Geneve?" he asked bluntly.

I turned away, embarrassed, but his fingers caught my chin. "Oh, come now. You weren't so bashful earlier today. Tell me the truth, my dear."

My face was crimson. "If you're just going to insult me, then I want to leave. I'm willing to forget what happened today if you will."

Aro leaned in, his lips just barely brushing my ear. "No, you aren't. And neither am I."

His breath was cold and sweet. I closed my eyes, feeling that destructive passion well inside me again. "I don't know what you mean."

"I should think it would be clear enough."

"I can't read minds," I said shakily. "You ask too much of me."

I opened my eyes. Never had those opposite me looked so beautiful; so translucently red. He didn't need such a powerful gift, I thought. My secrets were bare before those eyes…

Aro's hand was like stone. "Do not try to evade me, young Geneve. I should hate to pry into your thoughts again."

"Why would I _want _to tell you?" I demanded. "What have you ever given _me? _Why do you have to conceal everything, even your feelings?"

Aro released me. The fire reflected off his impassive face, revealing nothing. "Why do I conceal my feelings?" he repeated, almost to himself. "On the contrary, my dear girl, it is _you_ who have concealed _yours."_

"_I _have—!"

"You are a clever girl, Geneve, but you are, after all, only human. You've made a number of mistakes since coming here: spying, foregoing rules, lying... even prompting my guard to disobedience." He smiled, as if that last one were the most amusing of all.

My voice was inaudible. "I'm not the only one to make mistakes."

"Ah, yes! Our kind does as well, but it is not our job to _admit_ them to ourselves. If we respect the law, we are free to rampage the world as we please. Other than that, we are blameless. We are never scolded, never punished. We will never taste death. It is an everlasting, glorious hell."

Aro looked up at me, his eyes gleaming strangely, and his figure blurred. Before I could react, his icy hand was caressing my face, his touch remarkably tender.

"Do you realize how utterly lovely you are?" he said softly.

"No one's ever told me."

"Well, then they must be blind."

He smiled at me, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Yes," he whispered. "A very lovely girl…"

With a suddenness that startled me, his expression changed. His eyes gleamed savagely, seeing through me. "I hated you for it, you know," he said calmly. "I thought no one could be so delicate…so innocent…so damnably _pure. _You were my sister Didyme in the flesh. Her moods, her courage, her aversion to darkness—it was all yours. Every time I struck you, my dear, or caused you pain, it was as if _she _were there, reproaching me. You made me regret what I was, and I've never had to do that before. You not only revealed the monster—you made _me_ see him, as well."

Aro smiled frighteningly into my white face. "I nearly sent Demetri to your rooms one night. To end what I could not end myself…"

I listened, rooted to the ground where I stood. He spoke in the clearest, sweetest tones, his smile never changing its cheerful attitude, and not a shadow of remorse crossing his face. Only his eyes revealed anything—only his eyes blazed with a passion that seared through my soul. They cleared suddenly, and the anger vanished as quickly as it had come.

"I'm sorry, my dear," he apologized. "Now I've frightened you, haven't I? How cruel of me."

"I'm not frightened," I whispered.

"Disturbed, perhaps?"

"No…I-I'm a little confused." I hesitated, trying to grasp what he'd said. "If you hate me so much, then…then why—"

"You misunderstand me, my child," he said, sighing. "I do not hate you."

"But…"

His fingers curved downwards. They traced the edge of my lip, following where the cut scarred my skin. I tasted blood. My lip must have opened again.

"So young," he whispered to himself. "So young, and I am already marked on her face."

He leaned forward, and kissed the scar very softly.

My mind was swimming. I was incapable of creating thought. Nothing made sense anymore; I had just watched him cascade from one startling emotion to another, leaving no room for coherency on my part. Nothing felt real… nothing except that icy touch on my face. It rippled through my skin, sparking my veins until I thought my heart would burn a hole through my chest. The air was electric with the scent… the _feel _of him, and I hadn't even touched him yet. He made me love him without even trying.

But was it for real?

"Please," I said. "Please don't lie to me."

Aro raised his head. He reached for my hand, pressing it against my left breast. I watched his eyes grow excited, but it was not the frenzy of hunger. He waited until I could hear my heart, pounding roughly against our two hands, then he spoke. "What do you think?" he said gently.

A single tear ran down my face. I barely felt him moving closer; my soul vibrated against his chest as if there were two hearts beating instead of one. The ground fell away, disappearing beneath my feet. My cheek brushed Aro's neck, and I felt his arms cradling my body. He held me against him, his grip tightening, as if I were the most valuable, precious being in existence.

"You have bewitched me, my little one," he whispered through my hair.

The red curls mixed with his like fire, just as I'd imagined before. Only this time, I wasn't sitting on his lap, smiling. I was crying, holding on tightly as his beautiful, dark face kissed away the tears.

* * *

***HUGE GASP* I've been so busy these past few weeks, and I seriously thought I'd never finish this. PLEASE, PLEASE tell me what you think, and review. **


	19. Chapter 18: Survivor

**Chapter 18: Survivor **

"_It's true you won't know heaven well_

_If you have never been in hell…" _

_(Plazma; "Black Would Be White")_

When Heidi saw me walking out of Aro's chambers the next morning, her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. She had obviously believed what I'd previously feared; that Aro would dispose of me. From the sour smile on her face, it was clear that was what she'd wanted.

_Sorry to disappoint you, _I thought silently.

Her mouth pursed. "Let's go."

I followed the sound of her heeled boots, groping in the darkness. She didn't give me a light this time, but I was wise and just held my tongue. When we reached my room, she didn't even wait 'til I was inside before flouncing off around the corner.

I walked to the bathing rooms alone, bringing a fresh dress with me. It was my favorite one: a sleeveless white, falling a little past my knees in creamy satin. The baths were empty, as usual, and I walked back hurriedly, holding my old dress under my arm.

When I opened the door, there was someone else sitting on my bed. Something sprang towards me, and I was surrounded by a scent like cinnamon mixed with rosemary.

"You're back!" Celeste shrieked joyfully in my ear. Her hard arms squeezed me until I gasped for breath.

"Celeste…"

"Oh! Sorry!" She stepped back. "I just can't believe you're here!"

Her smile was infectious, and I laughed. "Neither can I."

She followed me over to my vanity. "So…? What happened?"

I yanked a brush through my ratty hair. "Nothing. Aro just thinks I'm still valuable, that's all."

Celeste scoffed. "Well, that's succinct. That could mean _anything. _My guess is he still wants you for his coven. I only wish I had an alibi as strong as yours."

"Oh, stop it, Celeste," I said impatiently. "I'm sure Demetri will stand up for you."

"It doesn't matter, if Aro wants otherwise." She shrugged, then curled up on my bed. "Well, go on!" she said eagerly. "Give me some delicious details. I've been worried sick about you all night."

"You're the only one, apparently," I laughed. "Heidi looked as if she wished I'd come out a sack of dried bones."

Celeste giggled. "Idiot. And what did Aro think?"

"I told you."

"No, you didn't. What else did he say?"

I looked at her in the mirror. "Do you want the truth, Celeste, or do you want me to say what _you_ want to hear?"

She frowned. "The truth, of course."

I turned around, smiling a little. I knew what my face looked like to her. The scar had healed somewhat, but the edges were still an angry red. Noticeable as they were, though, they couldn't hide the soft bruises that blossomed over my upper and lower lip.

Celeste stood slowly, disbelief on her face. "Geneve…" She touched the bruise, drawing back when she saw the others darkening my face and neck. They had become a part of me, much like the scar. The proof of his happiness imprinted on my flesh, distinguishing the differences between human and vampire. Differences which, last night, had become all but immaterial.

"It's all right," I said, worried by her expression. "They don't hurt."

Her lips were a thin line. "That's debatable."

"Oh, please, Celeste. Don't pretend _you've_ never hurt me accidentally. That hug you gave me just now might've broken my ribs."

"You're with _him, _now," she stated bluntly, ignoring me.

"Yes."

"Huh."

I took her by the hand. "You're not angry with me?"

"Not you, no."

"Are we still friends?"

"Yes." Celeste smiled finally, and I sighed in relief. "You're still alive, at least," she said thoughtfully. "That's to his credit. Mortals normally don't return. Tell me though, Geneve. I'm curious…" Her eyes gazed deeply into mine. "It still makes _no_ sense to me. Do you really, actually…_love_ him? I mean, he _is_ a vampire, after all, and _you're,_ well…"

I smiled. "It won't work, Celeste, whatever you're doing. You can't persuade me to give this up. Aro loves me, and that's that."

She laughed, surprising me. "All right, fine. Have it your way. But don't say I didn't warn you!"

"I won't."

We chatted for awhile, moving on to lighter topics, until Demetri poked his head through the doorway. "Well, well. So the human's awake." His eyes flickered to Celeste. "And so is the blondie, I see."

"Shut up, you idiot," she teased, skipping across the room. She kissed him lovingly on the lips, then jabbed his chest with her finger. "You owe me."

Demetri rolled his eyes.

"Owe him what?" I asked.

Demetri's teeth sparkled in his olive-toned face. "We made a bet to see if you'd emerge from the dungeon alive or not." He dodged as Celeste swung a fist at him. "Looks like I lost."

She hissed at him. "I told you not to tell her that!" She turned to me apologetically. "I'm sorry, honey. It was _his _idea. I knew you'd come back safe and sound."

Demetri growled, catching her left earlobe in his teeth. I smiled awkwardly, embarrassed for the second time by their antics.

She pulled away. "Get off me, you animal," she growled back. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"As an escort, of course. It's all I'm good for nowadays." He grinned at me. "Shall we?"

I left with both of them, a little stunned by Demetri's changed attitude. In the past, his malice had been worse than Felix's, and I was always wary of his sudden temper. But things had changed, it seemed. We passed Felix himself in the hallway, and instead of leering at me in contempt, he stared straight ahead as if we weren't there.

It wasn't until we reached the counsel room that I realized why. He was afraid. I was important to Aro now, and the guard had obviously decided to go along with that and show me the appropriate respect. It was grudging, true, but it was there all the same.

The large room was bright again with sunlight. The Volturi looked more inhuman than ever, gliding about in a rainbow of colors. I caught a glimpse of Aro's dark suit near the thrones, and a smile lit my face. Celeste threw a glance at me.

"Here she is, my lord," Demetri said casually. He went to stand by Celeste, who still watched me warily.

Aro stopped speaking for a moment. His white-haired brother turned with him.

"Ah!" Aro called loudly, causing everyone to turn with startled expressions. He glided quickly across the floor. His hand reached for mine, and I felt myself being pulled towards him. His arm curved around my waist, and his lips kissed my blushing cheek. "My jewel," he said smoothly. "And how are you this morning?"

"Fine, thank you."

The guard—Caius included—continued to stare at me with the same incredulous expressions. The look on Jane's face alone could melt through poison.

"What is this, Aro?" Caius said irritably.

Aro swept his fingers along my cheek. "Caius! What a question! Let's try to show Geneve some more hospitality, shall we?"

Caius snorted, but he didn't look at me as menacingly as before.

"Oh, don't mind my brother," Aro went on merrily. "He's always sour in the morning. Even for a vampire."

Demetri barked a laugh, but Caius silenced him with a look. I fidgeted nervously. The tension in the room was thicker than ever. Aro shrugged it off with another giddy laugh.

"Come," he said to me, still laughing. He pulled me gently towards the door.  
Caius stood up. "Aro! We have not finished yet!"

"Patience, dear brother! That can certainly wait."

I saw Caius shove a guard angrily out of his way before the doors slammed closed.

"Where are we going?" I asked breathlessly. Aro had released me, but I still struggled to keep up with his long strides.

He merely smiled at me, and moved on. We reached a small room that was unfamiliar to me, but Aro seemed to know well. He gestured me inside, then went straight for the darkest corner. When he returned, he was carrying an ornate box. The Volturi crest branded each side, and it was fastened with a tiny gold lock. He set it on a table before me, then opened it with gentle fingers. A wealth of jewels glittered up at me. Gold and jade tangled together among old-fashioned pearls, and bloodstone shone next to a bracelet of lapis lazuli. The black streaks of the bloodstone twisted through the red hues like veins. It was a veritable treasure house. Millions of dollars were possibly stored in this box, and who knew what else the Volturi had kept? They could be hiding Solomon's jewels, for all I knew.

Aro was smiling at my amazement. "I am told," he said calmly. "That your kind would kill to touch what is here in this case. Of course, it would all be locked up forever, never to be enjoyed by anyone." He reached out, cupping my cheek. "Never to grace a pretty face."

I blushed.

"Well?" he said, leaning against the table. "Does nothing catch your eye, my dear?"

I was still stunned by the riches before me. "I hardly know," I murmured.

"A string of rubies, perhaps?" He sorted through the precious stones. "The onyx would not suit you, of course, but these pearls would be perfect on your lovely throat."

I would have to choose _something. _He expected me to. I reached into the box, pulling out the simplest thing I could find. It was a silver chain, entirely made up of tiny, shimmering beads linked together. A slight weight tugged at the end, revealing a dazzling sapphire. It was smaller than the others, but was pure and uncut. It glowed a little, as if a soul were caught inside the stone.

"This," I said, holding it up. "I like this."

Aro's eyes sparkled. "An interesting choice," he said softly. He came behind me suddenly, taking the ends of the necklace from me. I felt his hand brush away my hair, lingering purposefully until I felt his cold skin through my dress. By the time it was fastened, I was already struggling to breathe properly.

"Thank you," I whispered.

I noticed his hand was still on my shoulder. After a moment, it fell away, and his face was beautiful in the dim light. "Interesting," he said. "You are not afraid, and yet your mind is once again silent."

"I'm sorry. I don't seem to be able to control it."

"Nor do I blame you for it," he said, smiling. "You are a rare human indeed, my love."

Renata entered the room. She immediately went to the table and placed the jewels back in the case. I caught her smiling shyly at me before she went to stand by Aro's side.

He ruffled her hair. "What is it, sweetling?"

"It's Caius," she said timidly. "He's very insistent you finish matters with him. He told me not to come back without you."

Aro threw his head back, laughing loudly. "Ah, but he is an impatient one, my brother! Is he not, Geneve?"

I smiled.

"Lead on, little one," he said to Renata. Before following her, he took my face gently in his hands, and pressed his lips to my cheek as he'd done before. Then he disappeared out the door.

I followed him, although they were gone by the time I was in the hallway. I leaned against the stones. The sapphire pricked my skin when I moved, its edges rough, but I liked the weight of it on my chest.

I closed my eyes, realizing that Aro hadn't touched my lips since the night before. My cheek, yes, or my hand, but never anywhere else. It was almost like he was avoiding the scars on my face, or being unduly sensitive to my modesty. This confused me. It wasn't like him at all. He always did exactly as he wanted, regardless of the feelings of others. Even the rare kindness he'd shown me in the past was tinged with a possessiveness that unnerved me. Everything Aro did was for a purpose, and that purpose would _always _end up the way he wanted.

_So what now? _I thought. I had no predictions for this relationship; no experience with which to guide me. In college, I hadn't been what Mel would call a "party girl." I just did the work, and hung out with friends when I could. I had "hung" with _vampires_ on a regular basis for who knows how long now, and I was about to enter into a relationship with the most notorious of them all.

_Is it worth it? _I pleaded with myself. _Do I even know his intentions? _

Aro materialized in my mind. His eyes were playful, and the irises had softened to a dim red.

"_Why don't you trust me?" _he said tenderly. _"I do not hate you." _

"I'm sorry, Aro," I whispered. "You'll have to be patient with me."

My fantasy faded, and I opened my eyes to see Jane standing across from me.

"Hello," I said awkwardly. "Does Aro need me?"

"No, he doesn't need you. He's _never_ needed you."

The malicious tone in her voice caught me by surprise. "What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"Oh, spare me your confusion, human. You _know _what I mean."

"I don't, actually."

Jane moved closer, jabbing her tiny finger in my chest. It hurt. "Everything was _fine _before _you_ came here. Don't think for a moment that we aren't watching you."

"I've done nothing wrong."

Her lips spread nastily. "We'll find something. Celeste isn't always around to protect you."

Before I could ask her what she meant by "we", another figure appeared beside her, identical in height.

"Come, sister," Alec said gently. She flounced off, still smiling in that horrible way.

Her brother turned his head. "Don't worry about her," he told me. "She will do nothing to provoke her master."

His words were soothing, but his face never changed its blank, rigid expression. He walked away, shoulders straight. His composure was unsettling, especially for someone half a head shorter than I was. They were both trapped, I thought suddenly. Aged vampires caught in immature bodies. Nevertheless, they were more than able to defend themselves. I wasn't.

Jane's eyes glowered demonically. _"We'll find something…" _

I had their master firmly on my side, but my fears had only redoubled in strength. What could _he_ do? I thought in terror. What could he do, were I to be found mutilated and senseless? How would his powers of immortality fare then?

* * *

**I'm so glad I "resolved" their romance in the previous chapter. It really has set the stage for some beautifully seductive, forthcoming scenes. ;) Reviews are appreciated! **


	20. Chapter 19: Cattivo

**A while back, a reviewer said they didn't particularly like Geneve, the heroine of this story. This confused me, since other than being innocent and a little lacking in courage, she shouldn't be someone you'd dislike. Hopefully you've been able to see things through her eyes and enjoy the story from this less-than-perfect author. I also hope you've fallen in love with Aro as much as I have. He's an incredibly fun character to write. **

**I do try, mes amis. :) **

**Chapter 19: "Cattivo" **

"_Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night... _

_Lovers can see to do their amorous rites _

_By their own beauties, or, if love be blind, _

_It best agrees with night..." _

_~ Romeo & Juliet_

I had little time to linger on these thoughts, for Celeste had chosen that day to show me some undiscovered parts of the Volturi's lair. I'd seen only a few rooms (each with its own vivid memories), but she'd always been too preoccupied to show me in the past. Hence, my boredom was considerably relieved as we darted in and out of stone doors and ancient furnishings. It was fascinating. I could actually see the ascension of time in the Volturi's collections. If I'd ever doubted Aro's age, it was quickly proved by the artifacts Celeste showed me. Primitive-looking chairs from the Middle Ages, Renaissance furniture, and a set of stone tablets that extended past my knowledge. Like the jewelry, it eclipsed anything I'd ever seen before. The treasures mankind possessed were _nothing _compared to this. Nothing. And whenever I felt doubtful, there was a whole gallery of paintings or stone masonry to contradict me.

"This is unbelievable," I whispered. Celeste didn't seem to be as awed as I was, although she did like the paintings. She seemed used to it.

_Spoiled, _I thought, smiling. As all immortals must be. Who wouldn't, with eternity at their fingertips?

Evening drew closer, and Celeste had to pull me away from it all. "I'm glad you liked it," she said kindly. "I don't know when I'll be able to take you again, though."

"Can't I go myself?"

She started. "Well…if you _want _to, then..." Her blonde curls shook vehemently. "No, Geneve. It's out of the question. You're just not safe here. Can't you understand that?"

I sighed. "I'm tired of being a prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Her merry laugh danced through the air. "I'd hardly call it that, not with you-know-who on your side. Why, you're probably higher up in favor now than the—"

She stopped abruptly.

"Than the what?"

I watched her face grow paler. "Forget it. I didn't say anything."

She turned away sharply, chattering about something else, but I'd already seen the look of fear in her eyes.

"Here we are!" she sang. The fire was already burning in the grate. She scurried about the room, lighting the candles for me.

Yes, it definitely _had_ been fear, much as she tried to hide it. I decided not to pursue the subject. And why not? I'd only get her into trouble, not to mention myself. But why would Celeste begin to say something, if she _knew _it was forbidden?

Heidi's sneering face appeared before me. _"Because she never shuts her mouth, that's why." _

"Celeste, that's ok. You don't have to do that."

She blew out a match. "I like doing things for you. Besides, you need to rest. When _I _was human, I liked to go to bed early. I really valued my sleep." She sighed regretfully. "Mm. It must be lovely to dream, don't you think?"

I laughed. "Not all the time. There's nightmares, too."

"Yes, but they're usually outweighed by pleasanter things." She looked around the room, checking that everything was in order. "So, are you doing ok? Feeling hungry at all?"

"No."

She hugged me. "Well, I'll be going then. Good night, Geneve."

"'Night."

I closed the door, locking it with my usual obsessiveness, then quickly slipped into a nightdress. I'd used it every night since coming to the Volturi. Oddly enough, I liked it better than the ordinary pajamas I used to wear. It had a delicate rim of lace at the bottom, ending a little past my knees, and a beautiful, soft texture that was incredibly comfortable.

"If I ever leave here," I said to myself. "I'm going to hunt down whatever this fabric is."

I'd just begun to blow out the candles when someone rapped at the door. I snatched a robe from the bureau. It was a deep black—not my favorite color—but I quickly pulled it on and wrapped it around my body.

"Come in," I said uncertainly.

Aro's tall shadow glided past the door, closing it softly behind him. My heart sped up a fraction. He caught sight of me by the bed and let out a low chuckle. "Not asleep yet, my dear? Celeste has tired you out, I'm sure."

"It's not that late," I replied.

"True. All the better for me, then!" he said gaily, sitting down. "I came expressly to see _you,_ _piccola, _and here I find you all ready to receive me."

"You're welcome anytime, Aro."

His teeth flashed. "I'd come if I was welcome or not."

I couldn't suppress a shiver, though the room was quite warm.

"Why don't you come nearer the fire?" he invited.

I wanted to, but my body couldn't seem to move.

"Are we strangers again?" he asked softly. Then, "Come now, Geneve. I've been waiting all day to see you. Are you going to deny me even _that _pleasure?"

I moved forward, finally. My bare feet made no noise on the carpet. The only sound was the almost inaudible breath Aro took as I edged further into the light. I knelt beside his chair, taking the hand he offered me.

"That's better," he murmured. His lips tickled my wrist, moving slowly into my palm. His kisses were more sensual than before, or maybe it was just a trick of the firelight. My own senses were incredibly alert, and I saw and felt everything he did with the clearest precision.

"Oh, no," I heard him whisper. "This won't do at all." His hands blurred, and the robe fell away from my shoulders in a heap on the floor.

My arms jerked instinctively, wrapping themselves around my chest.

"Stop," he said gently, gripping my wrists. His eyes were warm and red as he looked at me. _"Calm_ yourself, little one."

I tried to nod, but I was too embarrassed to even look up.

"Am I upsetting you?" he asked.

"No…"

"Would you prefer I left?"

"No!"

The vehemence of my reply made him smile. "Well, then…?"

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's just that… I'm not very good at…well, any of this, really. I've never experienced it before."

Aro laughed. "I don't quite catch your meaning, love."

I blushed. He knew what I meant.

"Ah, you mean _this?" _he questioned innocently. He placed a pale hand on my neck. I shivered as he moved back and forth in gentle circles.

"Yes," I breathed.

He grinned slyly. "Weren't you in college before, Geneve?"

"Yes."

"In America?"

"Yes."

"And no experience?"

I glared at him. "What are you trying to say?"

He chuckled. "Oh, nothing. Only…"

"What?"

He leaned back, releasing me. _"Your _move, _piccola."_

"What are you doing?"

"Making it easier for you."

I sucked in a breath, realizing what he meant. "Oh."

"Come…" His eyes were bright jewels in the darkness. "I'm entirely at your disposal."

I cleared my throat. He watched me, that half-hungry gaze burning into me. If his passion was as violent as mine was, then there was nothing he wouldn't do. Unless I was the first.

I stood up slowly, then reached out for him. He took my hand, his eyes alive with curiosity. I led him out of the shadows, directly in front of the fire, and pulled him down beside me. The carpet brushed my bare legs, causing goosebumps to shiver up and down my skin.

"Please don't move," I whispered.

The smile I received was so lovely, so unutterably wicked, I nearly lost it then and there. Taking a breath, I rested my hands on his shoulders. His jacket was surprisingly light, falling to the floor beside my robe. His throat was icy cold as I fumbled at the top button on his collar. I slowly made my way down, trying to focus while keeping my hands steady. I hardly knew what I was doing. There was a strange tightness in my chest, suffocating me. I felt that if I just finished my task—if I exposed at least part of what he hid from me—I could breathe again, and the blood would stop throbbing so violently in my veins.

I took another breath, and my hands dropped away.

A smooth surface of white flesh was exposed before me, the muscles rippling tensely when he shifted his position. It was perfect, like everything else, but that wasn't what made me shudder. He was _more_ than perfection. There was a dark, menacing aura about him; darker than I'd ever realized. The contours of his chest were beautiful, but cruel in the way they moved when he breathed. It was like staring at a statue, cold and dazzling in the extreme, and discovering it was just as alive and vibrant as you were. I could hardly imagine what he looked like in daylight.

Aro watched me with amusement. "You are a daring one, my love," he whispered. "But is that_ really_ the best you can do?"

Before I could reply, he grasped my wrists and placed both hands gently on his chest. My ensuing gasp made him smile again. The firelight danced against the icy surface like flint on stone.

"You mustn't be afraid, dear one," he breathed. "I will not hurt you."

I let him lift me gently, setting me on his lap. The cold metal of his necklace pressed against my cheek, soothing the flush that had crept over my skin.

After a moment, Aro pulled my head back, gazing into my eyes. His breath was cool and sweet. "You really don't know how, do you?" he asked softly.

"No, my lord."

He touched my lips. "There's no need for that, sweetheart. You are not my servant."

"I'm whatever you want me to be, Aro."

His eyes flashed, red and gold, and he inclined his head. "As you wish, then."

He bent down, laughing softly, until his cold lips embraced my neck. My head fell back, and I felt the cool weight of his arms. He followed the vein in my throat, which was still throbbing wildly. He touched my mouth gently, avoiding my scar, but ignored me when I tried to urge on the kiss.

"_Cattivo," _he whispered teasingly.

I peered at him through my eyelashes. "What?"

"Someday, my dear, I will teach you my language, but not now." He bit my neck gently, and I jumped. "You will have to learn the hard way, I'm afraid."

I felt my throat anxiously, but there wasn't even a mark. Aro pushed my hand away. I saw his teeth bare, and he began biting the tenderest parts of my flesh. They were hardly noticeable, but my body was on fire. He kissed my lips, my throat, my eyes. A flame seemed to follow each place he touched, increasing in tempo until I bit my lip to keep from screaming. His hands went around my waist, cold through the thin fabric.

A strange heat was rising between my legs. It was uncomfortable, yet not unpleasant. I squirmed under him. It rose to my chest, becoming a hard ache.

"Do you feel it, my love?" he breathed. "Do you feel your love for me?"

I fell against the rich carpet, and he followed. I could feel his body hovering over me. It must be a strain for him, I thought, to protect me like this. He licked the edges of my mouth, playing with my tongue.

I dug my hands into his hair, and tears fell through the strands. No one had ever kissed me like this. No one.

I was arching my back, pulling deeper into the kiss, when Aro's knee suddenly shifted between my legs. Flames shot up my body. I felt his lips falling on my throat, burning harder and rougher through the silk until—

"Stop!" I gasped.

He lifted his head immediately, looking down at me. "Am I hurting you?" he whispered.

I shook my head, trying to breathe, but he was pressing down on me. He slid away from my body, lifting me onto his lap like before.

"I _have _hurt you," he said. "You're crying."

Was I? I stared at his fingers, wet and moist on my cheek. "No," I insisted. "No…you've done nothing." I gazed into his awestruck face. "Forgive me, Aro."

"For what, precious one?"

"For stopping. I know—I know what you wanted. It's just that…I can't—"

He pressed my mouth, silencing me, and took my hand tightly in his. I leaned against his shoulder, feeling his cold neck against my cheek. It was easier this way; easier for him to hear what I couldn't express in words.

"Open your mind, Geneve," he said gently. "I cannot hear you."

I closed my eyes. I was getting better at this daily. I used to dread him hearing my thoughts, but I secretly prayed for the day when all the boundaries would be shattered. I didn't know what glitch in my brain caused me to avoid his power. Perhaps I would never know. But as I relaxed—as I let my love for him pour through me—I was relieved to know he _could _hear me.

Even if what he heard would caused him pain.

It wasn't that I didn't love him, or didn't enjoy him so close to me. But… I was a coward. It was that simple. If a single kiss had scarred my face, what would such a level of intimacy do? I trusted him. With my life. Was this a test of that trust? Would he really go so far as to hurt me again? I knew he regretted how he'd treated me. I'd seen the look on his face every time he looked at my scar.

I laughed miserably through my tears. _I'm so weak. _

With this last thought, Aro opened his eyes. His hands came up to encircle my face. "I had no idea you felt this way," he said softly. His dark eyes were fascinated.

"I'm sorry, Aro."

"Geneve, if you say that again, I may be forced to punish you." He smirked at me. "You _do _have a point, though. After all, I should hate to leave this room with a corpse as a companion."

"Don't tease me."

"I'm not teasing you, love. I've fooled around enough with your life without endangering it now."

I touched his face in return. "How do you _know,_ though? How do you know if you're in control of yourself?"

He chuckled. "Oh, only about several thousand years of experience. We may indulge in dark appetites, dear girl, but my brothers and I are quite capable of exerting self-control."

I sighed. The passion in the room had softened to a quiet intensity. For now, we wouldn't be getting any closer.

"Yes…" Aro whispered. "But we _could _try again, if you wish."

I pulled my hand away. "Stop that!"

He laughed at me, and I had to laugh with him. "Do you always get your way?" I asked.

He stroked my hair, smiling. "I like to think so." His red eyes shone down at me indulgently.

I dared another question. "So tell me," I teased. "If a vampire _were_ to change someone, where would he begin? Or is the throat traditional?"

He looked at me, not replying. I lifted his cold hand in my own, resting it against my cheek.

"Where would _you_ begin?" I prodded.

There was a brief silence. Then Aro pulled his hand away, smiling mischievously at me. "That, my dear," he said softly. "Is something you'll have to find out for yourself."

"That's not fair. What if I never—"

I stopped, suddenly somber. This was a topic we generally avoided, and one I had yet to decide on.

"Yes?"

"Never mind." I looked at him, a silent permission, and he carried me gently over to the bed. He stretched out his tall form beside me. I sighed, inhaling the warm scent of his hair.

"Aro?"

"Yes, my love?"

I hesitated. "Remember what you asked me when—well, when I first came here?"

His lips brushed my ear. "What was that?"

"If I wanted to—to change..."

I didn't need to continue. His lips froze on my skin. "Ah," he murmured, understanding. He held me back by the shoulders, staring into my eyes. "What of it?"

"Well, if I ever _do _change my mind, I want _you_ to do it. Not Demetri or any of your guard. Just you."

Aro's eyes had brightened as I spoke, and his voice was eager. "So you do intend to join us?" he asked, brushing my cheek softly.

I kissed his fingers. "I haven't decided. I just wanted you to know."

He was silent, regarding me thoughtfully.

"Will you?" I asked.

So suddenly, it startled me, Aro tilted me backwards, so my hair hung back and my throat lay bare. His hands curved around my waist, causing a rush of heat to flood my face. "But of course, my dear," he whispered. "If…"

I gasped, trying to breathe. "If what?"

His lips tickled my throat. "_If_ I can control myself that long."

**End of Part I **


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